Inside Out
by RobzBeanie
Summary: Bella knows she isn't what her best friend Edward is looking for in a partner. But could a handful of fateful invitations turn everything she thinks she knows inside out? ** A continuation of the one-shot that won First Place Judges Score in the Friends to Lovers Contest **
1. The Object Of My Affection

**Author Note:** This is a continuation of my one-shot that won several awards in the Friends to Lovers contest in late 2013, including "Most Potential for a Full Story." The one-shot will be repeated here, split into four chapters.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 1 — The Object Of My Affection_

"How about this one?" I ask, stepping out of the department store dressing room in my sixth attempt at finding the perfect dress for my friend Angela's wedding next month. It's a knee-length, one-shoulder dress in a bright emerald green, and I think it looks great on me. Perfect for a summer wedding in hot, humid Florida.

"Hmmm… turn around." I follow directions, turning to face the mirrors. "I think it makes your ass look flat."

"Seriously?" I pout. I _hate_ trying on dresses. I'm actually glad that Angela is having just a small wedding, with only her two sisters and her best friend since middle school as her bridesmaids. I've seen the show _Say Yes to the Dress: Bridesmaids_ on TLC — uh-uh, no way would I want to be a part of that.

"What about the one I picked out for you?"

"Edward," I groan. "I can tell just on the hanger that I won't be able to wear a bra with it."

"So what? You have the perky tits of a 20-something woman. Flaunt it!" he insists.

Rolling my eyes, I step back into the dressing room. After changing out of the green dress, I slip into the backless midnight blue dress that Edward picked out and pull up the short zipper. Unless there's something I'm missing from the one mirror inside the tiny room, Edward is absolutely right about this dress. Damn it.

"Why do you always have to try to prove me wrong and try on your own picks first?" Edward asks with a grin from his place on the chair when I step out of the dressing room again. Ignoring him, I twirl around, trying to catch the view from all angles in the three-way mirror. "Stop trying to find something wrong with it; it's perfect."

Sighing, I return to the dressing room to change back into my own clothes.

"Meet you in the shoe department!" Edward calls from outside.

I grumble the entire way to the checkout counter. The good thing about having a gay best friend is that he's not afraid to tell it like it is when it comes to… anything. The bad thing is that he thinks his sexual orientation alone is reason enough for me to categorically trust his judgment in relation to all things fashion. Unfortunately — he's usually right.

* * *

I first met Edward Cullen nearly four years ago, just before my 23rd birthday. Since graduating from the University of North Florida with a degree in English, I'd sold a couple of freelance pieces to magazines while I spent all of my limited free time writing my novel in a quest to become the Next Great Author. But given that I had bills to pay, I also worked as a waitress in a diner near Baptist Medical Center in downtown Jacksonville.

I'd only been working at the diner for two or three weeks when the best-looking man I'd ever seen in my life walked in, sitting down in my section. He was very tall and lean, with a smiling face and messy reddish-brown hair. Fuck, he looked like he could be a movie star.

As I nervously went to take his order, I couldn't help staring at his strong jaw. I wanted to lick it. When he looked up at me through the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, I wanted to drown in them. And then he spoke… my God! His voice was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. I'm sure I stuttered my way through the entire exchange, coming off like an idiot.

Over the next few weeks, the green-eyed god came into the diner three or four times a week. I slowly learned that his name was Edward, that he was originally from a suburb of Chicago, and that he was just starting his medical residency at the nearby hospital. He needed the caffeine boost before working those crazy 24 or 36-hour shifts for which residency programs are famous.

And get this: he wasn't studying to become some hotshot cardiac surgeon or anything like that. No, Edward wanted to be a pediatrician. A freakin' pediatrician! He wanted to take care of kids, for God's sake. He wasn't in it for the glory, but to actually _help_ people.

To say I quickly developed a crush on my handsome customer would be an understatement. Each time I saw him, I'd come back to the apartment I shared with my former college roommate, Angela, and we'd dissect our conversations, looking for any hint that he might be interested in me as well.

I admit, I am beyond awful at flirting, but I pulled out all of the stops with Edward and it didn't seem to make a damn bit of difference. Angela wanted to come observe us for herself one day, convinced that since I was hopeless at flirting, I was also unable to pick up the signs of someone flirting back.

After about six weeks, I just decided to go for it and ask Edward to have dinner with me. Of course, I chickened out in my first attempt, swearing to myself that I would definitely do it the next time I saw him.

Edward had told me that his next shift was on Sunday, so I was surprised to see him walking into the diner on Saturday evening. And this time, he wasn't alone.

Walking beside Edward was a shorter man with blond spiky hair, wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt that totally showed off the hours he spent in the gym. Edward's hand was on the small of the obviously gay man's back as he led him to his usual table.

Good God… no wonder Edward wasn't taking my inadequate bait: he was gay!

Never in my life was I so, so glad that I had dilly-dallied in asking Edward on a date. I would've been mortified to ask and _then_ find out that my crush was batting for the other team.

* * *

"In the kitchen," Edward calls as I step inside the door of the house I share with him. Dropping my purse, I go to look for him. I find him grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge, looking better than any man has a right to in low-slung jeans that show off his incredible, edible ass and a tight, faded black t-shirt bearing his college's logo.

"Just in time," he smiles. "The pizza I ordered got here a couple of minutes ago, if you're still hungry." I want to laugh at Edward having to order delivery, not knowing when I'd be getting home. I really need to nominate him for the next season of _The Worst Cooks in America_ — I don't think there was a home-cooked meal that he hadn't messed up in some way before I moved in.

"Sure, yeah, I could eat a couple pieces," I answer. "We just had 'finger foods' at the shower." While Edward grabs another bottle of beer for me, I take a seat at the table, pulling a slice of Hawaiian pizza from the box. I smile at the thought that I got Edward to start ordering my favorite toppings.

"So how was Angela's shower?" he asks, mid-chew. Ugh, men have no manners, no matter their sexual preferences.

"You don't want to hear about it," I reply, embarrassed even _thinking_ about my afternoon.

"Why not?"

"It was a…lingerie and sex toy party. I'm sure you really don't want to hear about vibrators and dildos."

Edward laughs, his eyes crinkling up adorably. "What makes you think I don't know anything about fake dicks?"

"Seriously, Edward… men have, you know, _built-in_ sex toys. What do you need with more?" Oh my God, please can't one of the many Florida sinkholes swallow me up.

"I could tell you," he answers with a chuckle, "But I'm afraid your head might explode."

"Ugh," I growl, covering my ears to block out the sounds of his laughter. "Well, then I'm certain you're not interested in hearing about what women do with them."

Edward rolls his eyes. "For God's sake, Bella — I'm a doctor. I'm not disgusted by women's bodies." He shakes his head, reaching into the box for another slice of pizza.

"Your patients are _children_," I point out.

"Even so, it's not like I've never had sex with a woman before."

I set my half-eaten slice of pizza down on the plate, staring at Edward. He's had sex with a woman? When? "When—" I clear my throat. "Um, when did you have sex with a woman?"

He finishes chewing this time before replying. "I dated girls in high school. And had a couple of one-night stands in med school."

"You dated girls in high school? I thought you said your prom date was named Sam?" I cannot even comprehend this. Edward has dated women? Isn't he _gay_? Or is he saying he's bisexual? _Please_ let him be bisexual.

"Sure, Samantha. She always went by Sam," he answers.

We finish the rest of our pizza in silence. Inside, my mind is reeling. Is Edward still attracted to women? Is there a chance for us? No, that's ridiculous, I tell myself.

Since I moved in here, Edward has seen me all but naked. He's seen me in sleepwear, or just my bra lots of times, not to mention in my bikini when we hang out at the beach together. He's even commented about seeing my nipples through thin shirts if I try to go braless… If he had any sexual attraction to me at all, surely he would've acted on it by now, wouldn't he? Maybe I'm just not his type of woman.

After we clean up from dinner, Edward and I take our usual seats on his huge, comfy sectional sofa. I throw my arm around his stomach, settling into his side as he reaches for the remote control.

"How come you're not going out tonight?" I ask him. It's Saturday night, after all.

"Early shift tomorrow."

I try to watch the movie he turns on, but my mind is still stuck on our dinner conversation. I want to ask for all of the details about Edward and women, but a part of me doesn't want to know if he's going to say that he has no interest in ever dating a woman again. I don't want to lose my fantasy.

"Edward?" I ask tentatively, looking up at him. I wait until he turns his head to look at me before continuing. "Tell me about dating women."

He sighs, then shrugs. "You know how my parents are. Even though I was attracted to guys, I wouldn't have dared to explore that while still living at home and risk my parents finding out. And it's not like I found girls repulsive or anything like that. I actually think the female body is beautiful."

Obviously not _my_ body, given how little attention he gives it when he sees me in skimpy clothing. He probably likes women with long legs and curves in all the right places — none of which I can boast.

"I started dating Tanya toward the end of my sophomore year," he continues. "We were together about six months and were each other's firsts. She broke up with me about two weeks after we started having sex, complaining that I was a horrible lover. Next was Kate, who pretty much told me the same thing.

"Sam and I dated for a few months my senior year, and yeah, I took her to prom. I'd always thought our sex life was… okay, but then she dumped me, saying that I acted like I didn't want to be there when we had sex."

"Did it ever occur to any of them that no 17-year-old guy fucks like a porn star?" I ask. "My first boyfriend lasted about two minutes max and had no idea how to get me off."

Edward smirks at me. "Or maybe they were all on to something. Anyway, even though I moved into the dorms at Northwestern, I stopped dating entirely once I started college. Too much work on my plate being pre-med, I always said.

"I was taking a drama class to fulfill an Arts requirement in my junior year, and that's when I met Riley. He was definitely out of the closet, always friendly and flirting with me. When he asked me out, I… took a chance. It was tough coming to grips with the fact that I might be gay, knowing my own parents would disown me if they ever found out."

"What happened to Riley?" I ask softly.

"We dated until graduation, and then he wanted to move to New York City and try to make it on Broadway. I had to do what was best for me though. Johns Hopkins in Baltimore is one of the top-rated medical schools for Pediatrics, and they'd accepted me. There was nothing for me in New York. I wished him well when he left," he finishes fondly.

"Did you love him?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I did," he smiles. "It was a long time before I felt ready to actually date again, not until I moved here and met Alec. In med school, I mostly had one-night stands — with men and women. None of them really did it for me though. I think… I can't really enjoy sex without feelings being involved. God, I'm such a woman," he laughs.

"Needing to care about someone in order to have sex with them doesn't make you a woman, Edward," I tell him, punching his side. It makes him pretty much perfect.

* * *

It was about a week or so after I had realized that Edward was gay that the beginning of our friendship was formed. One of the other waitresses at the diner begged me to switch shifts so she could attend a Halloween midnight showing of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. I hated working the late shift, but after much badgering, I agreed.

Shortly after midnight, I was alone in the diner — well, besides the cook back in the kitchen — when a creepy customer came in. He looked to be about my age, with dark blond hair pulled back in a greasy ponytail, wearing jeans and a leather jacket. As I took his order, he was obviously flirting with me, but I tried to play it off like I hadn't noticed.

As I dropped off the check, he asked me what time I got off work. I lied and told him 6am. When he offered to come back and give me a ride home, I declined and he left, leaving me a quarter tip for his $12.14 meal. Jackass.

When my shift ended at 2am, I headed out to my car. Before I could open the door, strong arms grabbed me from behind. I twisted around, trying to get away, but he was holding me too tightly.

"Well, well, so the pretty little bitch lied." I recognized the voice as that of my creepy customer, but I couldn't scream with his hand over my mouth. As I tried desperately to remember what I'd learned in the self-defense class I took freshman year, he suddenly let me go and I fell to the ground.

"Get the hell out of here," a furious voice yelled. "Pick on someone your own size."

I looked up from my place on the ground to see my assailant cowering from… Edward! He sneered, spat on the ground, and stalked off to a dark-colored muscle car, speeding away.

"Are you all right?" Edward asked, extending a hand to help me up.

"Y-yes," I answered shakily. Edward hugged me to him, and I finally relaxed, letting myself sink into his warm body.

"I don't think he's from around here," he said softly. "His car had Georgia plates."

"I've never seen him before," I confirmed, "But I don't usually work this shift."

Edward pulled back a little, looking intently at me. "What the hell did you think you were doing walking to your car alone in the dark?" he asked, almost angrily. "Do you have no sense of self-preservation?"

I shrugged. "I didn't even think about it… like I said, I don't usually work this shift."

"Promise me you'll have someone escort you to your car if you ever work at night again. It's dangerous downtown, Bella."

"I promise," I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Did you just come off your shift at the hospital?"

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand through his hair. "I was hungry, thought I'd get a piece of pie," he added with a wink.

"We're out of cherry." His favorite.

"Well, boo," he pouted. I laughed. "Hey, um, are you working tomorrow afternoon?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "I traded shifts with Jessica."

"Would you, um, like to come to the Jaguars game with me?" he asked.

"You like football?" I asked, shocked. Weren't gay men supposed to dislike sports? Except maybe figure skating, or men's swimming or diving, or something like that.

"Sure," he shrugged. "My hometown Bears are in town."

"Wouldn't you rather, um… the guy you were here with last week, um…"

"Alec hates sports," he replied. Ah, well, that's more like it.

"I'd love to go with you, Edward," I smiled.

* * *

"Well, well, well… someone has had a bit too much to drink," Edward smirks from his place on the couch as I stumble in the door after Angela's bachelorette party. He's slouched in the corner of the sectional, wearing boxers and a plain white t-shirt. As always, he looks perfectly edible.

"Can it, Edward," I grumble, heading into the kitchen for a bottle of water. I twist off the top, take a long drink, then wander into the family room, curling up beside him on the couch, where he's watching David Letterman.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks, throwing his right arm around my shoulders and hugging me to him.

"I did," I sigh. "It's just… every other girl who was there is already married, or engaged, or close to being engaged. And I'm…"

"Shacking up with me?" he finishes, waggling his eyebrows.

"I don't think it's 'shacking up' unless you share a bedroom," I reply, punching him lightly in the ribs.

"It'll happen for you, Bella," he says, stroking one finger down my cheek as he looks me in the eye. "So Tyler was an asshole who cheated on you. That's no reason to remove yourself from the dating pool."

"Ugh, do not speak that man's name again," I reply with a shudder.

"Do not change the subject, Swan," Edward says sternly, tapping his index finger on my nose. "You need to find a date."

"You're not backing out on me, are you?" I ask anxiously. Edward had agreed to step in as my date for Angela's wedding in two more days, given that I had a "plus one" at the time I sent in my RSVP to her invitation.

"No, relax. I told you I'd take you to the wedding and I always keep my word. I just meant in general. See any good candidates tonight?"

"We went to a strip club, Edward," I deadpan. "You know better than I do that the vast majority of male strippers — and all of the clientele at those places — prefer men."

"Hmm… yeah," he replies dreamily, earning himself another elbow to the ribs. I don't like being reminded that I don't have the body parts that Edward wants.

"Such violence, Swan," he complains with a grin so I know he's not really mad. "You're gonna pay for that."

"Oh yeah?" I taunt. "You wouldn't hit a girl."

"No, but…" He pulls his arm off my shoulders and turns toward me, his hands immediately moving to either side of my ribs — where he starts tickling me.

"Fuck!" I yell through my giggles. Edward knows I'm insanely ticklish.

I try to scoot away, ending up flat on my back on the couch. My idea completely backfires when Edward stretches out his long body to cover mine, while his fingers never stop their relentless tickling. He's lean, but he's much heavier than me, and now he's pinning me down so I can't move.

"Uncle! Uncle!"

"Oh no, I'm not through with you yet," he grins, still not letting up.

"Edward, I'm serious! I'm gonna puke all over your couch if you don't stop."

_That_ stops his torture immediately. His fingers blessedly leave my ribs as he reaches up to brush my mess of hair off my face, staring down at me.

It suddenly hits me that Edward is lying right on top of me — a position I've previously only dreamed about. My skirt has ridden up and only two thin layers separate us. I can feel his dick between us, pushed deliciously up against my center, and it feels absolutely huge considering he's not hard. It takes everything I have not to rub myself against him to try to feel how much bigger it can get.

I can sense myself getting warmer as I gaze up at Edward. I want so badly to just lean up and touch my lips to his. Is this what UST feels like? Or do _both_ parties have to feel it to call it UST? While I'm pondering that, he blows out a long breath and sits up, running his hand through his hair.

Fuck, I freaked him out. I sit up slowly then get off the couch, hoping he isn't too weirded out by me. I can only imagine the way I was looking at him.

"Um, I'm gonna go change," I mumble, scurrying to my bedroom while mentally slapping myself for getting us into such an awkward position in the first place.

* * *

I'd never really had someone there for me when I was growing up. My parents divorced when I was just a toddler, and I spent most of my life with my loving, if flighty, mother, Renee, in Phoenix, Arizona.

When I was a junior in high school she finally remarried, and I left Phoenix to go live with my dad in the tiny town of Forks, Washington, on the Olympic Peninsula. I hated it up there… everything was so freakin' _green_, and it rained more often than not. There was no question that I'd move away from the area after high school graduation.

I had applied to a few different schools around the country, but after being offered a good scholarship to the University of North Florida, I decided to come to Jacksonville, where my mom had settled down with her much-younger husband, Phil, a minor league baseball player.

So I wasn't really used to having anyone in my life that I could truly count on. Until I met Edward.

Whenever one of my relationships — if you could even call them that — ended, he'd invite me to his apartment, meeting me at the door with a pint of Ben & Jerry's. We'd vegetate on the couch, watching movies and discussing celebrity gossip — anything to get my mind off of it.

And when my novel was rejected by every agent or publisher I sent it to, we did the same thing.

About six months after we became friends, Edward talked me into going to see a musical with him at the local playhouse. He'd given Alec the heave-ho a couple of months earlier and hadn't found anyone else who'd caught his eye.

We went out for sushi before the show, and by intermission, I was having horrible stomach pains. I blamed it on the sushi, but Edward had eaten the same things I had and was feeling just fine. By the time the show was over, I was about to pass out from the pain, so Edward took me straight to the emergency room, where I was diagnosed with appendicitis.

When I woke up after the surgery, Edward was right there, holding my hand in the recovery room. And he stayed there beside me in the hospital every moment that he could, even more than my own mother. I will never, ever forget that as long as I live.

But it was what happened about 18 months ago that solidified my feelings for Edward. My father, Charlie, is Chief of Police up in Forks. I got a call one day from one of his deputies telling me that my father had had a heart attack — too much greasy diner food — and was scheduled for triple-bypass surgery. He assured me that my dad would be fine, but I still needed to get to him.

Thanks to the medical bills from my appendectomy nearly two years earlier, I had virtually no savings. There was no way I could manage to get a last-minute airline ticket to SeaTac, _and_ pay for a rental car to drive to Forks. But Edward came through for me, telling me he'd pay for my trip. I agreed, but insisted that it was a loan, not a gift, and I'd pay him back as soon as I could.

I mean, I know Edward is rich. Not so much from his medical practice, since at that time, he still had a few months remaining in his residency and was making peanuts — but because his parents are filthy, stinking rich. His mother is some famous interior designer back in Chicago — she'd remodeled Oprah Winfrey's mansion, for God's sake. And his father is one of those highly paid cardiac surgeons. Edward had come into his full trust fund when he turned 25, though it wasn't until he completed his residency that he finally used that money to buy himself a gorgeous house on the beach.

_Anyway_ — when Edward came through for me like that, making it possible to go see my dad after his bypass surgery, I could no longer deny my feelings for him. I was in love with Edward. I was in love with my best friend. I was in love with a gay man.

Good God, I was pathetic.

* * *

**A/N:** The next three chapters will post one per day. The remaining chapters will update on Mondays until completion.


	2. The Wedding Date

**Author Note:** Thanks to everyone who's come along for the ride! Such a great response to the first chapter. My Inbox dings with new Favorites and Follows every few minutes.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 2 — The Wedding Date_

Angela's wedding reception is being held in a ballroom at the Hyatt Regency hotel. After the sit-down dinner, the best man and maid of honor give their speeches and then the bride and groom cut the gorgeous cake.

"Mmm…" I moan, closing my eyes as I lick the fork. I freakin' love red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

When I open my eyes, I notice Edward staring at me. "What?" I ask, wiping at my mouth. "Do I have frosting on my mouth?"

"Huh?" he asks, seeming to snap out of whatever daze he was in. "No, you're fine."

Not totally believing him, I excuse myself as soon as I finish my piece of cake, heading to the ladies room to check if there's something on my face. There's not.

"Bella!" Angela's mother calls with a smile as I make my way back to the table.

"Hi, Mrs. Weber," I greet her with a hug. Angela's mom is like the nicest person on the planet.

"So when are we going to be attending one of these shindigs for you?" she asks with a wink.

"Oh, I — it'll be a long time from now." Like possibly never.

"Oh, come on — Angela tells me you're living with Edward. Don't you let him get the milk for free now," she winks.

What's the saying about Ireland? Forty shades of green? Well, I'm sure I turn 40 shades of red at her remark. "Edward and I aren't… I mean, it's not like that. I have my own room!"

Mrs. Weber smiles softly, patting my arm. "Then it's just a matter of time, Bella, love. Anyone with eyes can see how you two look at each other."

When Mrs. Weber excuses herself, I stand there unmoving, my mind going over and over our conversation. I know how I look at Edward — though I try not to, as I'd be horrified if he ever noticed — but she must be seeing what she wants to see to ever imagine that he looks at me the same way.

"There you are, Swan," Edward calls when I finally return to the table. Damn, the man looks good in a suit. "I was about to send out a search party for you. Come on and dance with me."

"Edward, you know perfectly well I don't dance."

"And _you_ know perfectly well that you'll never get any better if you don't at least try. It's all in the leading, I tell you." He stands up, holding his arm out for me to take. Rolling my eyes, I loop my arm through his and let him lead me to the dance floor.

Edward chooses an open place on the ballroom floor and stops, grabbing hold of my left hand with his right. I lift my right hand to his shoulder and let him pull me close. I instinctively smile back when he smiles at me.

"You look good today, Swan."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah… I know you are the Jedi Master of choosing party dresses."

"Well, yeah, the dress I picked out is awesome. But I mean in general, your hair and make-up. You don't usually wear much make-up, and it looks good on you."

I feel my face flame as I take in his words. I went to a salon this morning to get my hair styled and my make-up applied professionally. I'm… pleased that he noticed, even if it is just because gay men tend to notice those things.

"Thanks," I mutter, not knowing what else to say that won't give me away. Edward has complimented my appearance before, but this feels… different somehow.

When the music changes to a slow dance, I twine my arms around his neck, unable to help myself. Edward wraps his arms around me and I shudder at the feel of his warm hands on the bare skin of my back. I lean my head on his chest so he can't see my reaction, breathing him in as we sway together. I hope the song never ends, but of course, eventually it does. Edward pulls away at the sound of the funky groove, spinning me around while I laugh.

We dance together until my feet are howling in protest. Why did I let him talk to me into four-inch heels again? Oh yeah, because he said they'd make my legs and ass look awesome.

When I finally drag him off the dance floor, Edward and I retake our seats at the table, where he pulls my feet onto his lap, removes my shoes and starts massaging the bottom of my feet.

"God, Edward," I moan, "Your fingers are magic."

He smiles. "Just paying you back for all the times you've worked the kinks out of my shoulders."

I'm totally zoning out as Edward rubs my feet when I hear the sound of a camera clicking. I look up into the smiling face of Angela's youngest sister, Alice.

"You two are so freakin' cute," she squeals. "I wish my boyfriend would do that."

"Oh, he's not—"

"Thanks, Alice," Edward interrupts me. Alice hugs me then walks away, snapping photos of the next unsuspecting couple.

"Why did you let her think we're a couple?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs. "People have been thinking that all night," he chuckles. "I went to the men's room earlier and half a dozen guys told me I had the prettiest date here."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not!" he protests.

"Even Angela's mother said I should stop letting you get the milk for free," I muse.

Edward laughs loudly, then winks at me. "Maybe we oughta just do it then since everyone already thinks we are."

I stare at him, open-mouthed. He's just joking… isn't he?

* * *

Angela and Ben got engaged just over a year ago. I was so happy for her when she came home to tell me about it. Ben is the nicest guy, a geeky sort who works in the banking industry and is a closet gamer on the weekends. They'd been dating since freshman year and she thought he would never propose. Personally, I think her father, Reverend Weber, finally threatened Ben with a shotgun.

Three months later though, I wasn't feeling so excited when Angela broke the news that Ben wanted her to move in with him. She knew as well as I did that I could never manage the rent on our two-bedroom apartment all by myself, so she waited until our lease was about up before letting me know. Angela had taken the more practical route of studying Accounting at UNF and certainly could've lived on her own, but she took pity on her poor, English-major friend, letting me share the rent.

So not only did I need to find a new place to live, but the only furniture I had to call my own was my childhood bedroom set that Renee had let me take with me when I moved in with Angela. All of the rest of our furniture was Angela's, inherited from her grandmother, who had died during our senior year.

Edward had recently purchased his beach house and offered to let me stay in one of the guest bedrooms, but I just couldn't bring myself to accept his invitation. At the time, he was dating Laurent, a hot young guy from France who was studying at The Art Institute. There was no way I could stand to overhear Edward and Laurent having sex.

I mean, I'm not homophobic or anything… I wouldn't want to listen to Edward having sex with a woman either. Ok, fine, I hate porn and I don't like overhearing other people going at it in any way, shape or form. Thank God Angela and Ben usually ended up at his place.

At the time, I'd been dating Tyler Crowley for about five months. While he was no Edward, I did like him a lot and I wondered sometimes if he could be "the one." Just when I was about to give up and move back in with my mom and stepdad, Tyler suggested that I move in with him. It seemed like the best choice for me — moving back home at age 26 was beyond embarrassing.

The honeymoon period lasted for about a month before it seemed like all Tyler wanted was a woman to cook and clean for him. He didn't even want sex all that much. We'd been living together for about five months when I came home to find him in bed with our next-door neighbor, Lauren Mallory. He gave me excuse after excuse, but I packed my suitcase, throwing all of my meager possessions into the trunk of my car.

I called Edward on the way to my mom's house, and he told me in no uncertain terms to get my ass to his beach house, promising he'd be there as soon as he could. I cried in Edward's arms that night and in the morning, he announced that I was moving in with him. Laurent was a thing of the past by that point, so I took him up on his offer — five months too late.

Edward had never thought much of Tyler, but to his credit, he never did say, "I told you so."

* * *

"Mmm… right there."

I try not to imagine all of the more fun reasons that Edward could be saying those words to me. It's about a week after Angela's wedding and I'm sitting on the couch, massaging his shoulders as he sits on the floor in front of my spread legs.

"That tickles," he giggles when I run my thumb over the cute little mole on the back of his neck, squirming as he tries to take another sip of his beer.

"You're really tense today," I note.

He sighs. "I just had a rough day. I think one of my young patients may have cancer," he says quietly.

"Oh, Edward." I reach down, hugging him tightly around his neck. My cheek is pressed against his stubbly cheek and I can still smell the remainder of his cologne. I have to try hard not to sniff him. He grasps my left hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Thanks, Bella. Now get back to work," he orders, trying to sound stern.

"Do you talk to your nurses like that?" I joke.

"You really are good at this, Bella. I don't know why you won't consider massage as a back-up career."

Ah yes, one of those talents I picked up from my aforementioned flighty mother. Renee had a new hobby practically every year. One time it was pottery, one time yoga, then one year she actually went through training to become a masseuse. She taught me everything she learned, but never ended up doing it as a full-time career. It did help her become an assistant trainer for the local minor league baseball team though, which is how she met Phil.

"I've told you before, Edward — I don't want to touch strangers all day."

"You don't have a problem touching me." Shit.

"But you're… you."

I go back to my work, concentrating on the most tense muscles. I'm totally lost in a zone, wishing I was allowed to touch more of Edward than just his shoulders. He's shirtless and I can see the definition in his muscles. He's not ridiculously built, but he took advantage of the workout room at his old apartment complex. Since moving, he runs on the beach every chance he gets, and his legs are—

"Oh hey, I almost forgot," Edward begins, interrupting the path my thoughts were about to follow. "I'll be attending a medical conference in a couple of weeks, down in Fort Lauderdale. Would you want to come with me? It's the weekend before your birthday."

This wouldn't be the first time I've done something like this for Edward. He isn't "out" at work — mostly because he's afraid it'll get back to his father — so whenever he has some sort of event to go to with an invitation for a "significant other," he invites me. It's always a good time, hanging with wealthy doctors at gorgeous resorts. Though they do tend to hit on me.

"Bella…?"

"Sorry, yeah, um… I'll ask my boss for that weekend off. I'd love to come with you. Thanks for the invitation."

"Awesome," he replies, turning around to smile at me. "Hey, what would you think of going out tonight? I just need to let off some steam. It's karaoke night at Cock-a-doodle-do," he adds, waggling his eyebrows.

I laugh, standing up from the couch. "Let me go get dressed." I love going to gay bars with Edward. At straight bars, _both_ of us get hit on all night. It wouldn't be so bad if the men who hit on me were even the slightest bit my type, but they always seem to be at least 40, often with an indentation on their left ring finger from the wedding ring they removed before walking in the door. At least at gay bars, only Edward gets the attention.

I slip into my favorite pair of Miss Me jeans — which Edward picked out, of course — and a low-cut silver top. I always make sure to show off the girls at gay bars, so everyone knows they're real and I'm not some drag queen. I darken my make-up then bend over, spraying hairspray all over my long brown hair. Edward hates it when I do that in front of him, always complaining that hairspray is the cause of the hole in the ozone layer.

"Nice," Edward whistles when I finally come out of the bathroom. He has changed as well, into tight dark wash jeans and a white button-down shirt.

"Looking for some action tonight, Cullen?" I tease him.

"Only with my best girl," he replies, hugging me briefly before grabbing his keys. If only he really meant that.

Once we reach the bar, Edward and I manage to find a high-top table to sit and drink. I roll my eyes when the shirtless waiter totally flirts with Edward as he takes our order.

"Can you be the designated driver tonight?" Edward asks as a six-foot-six drag queen takes the stage to sing a Cher song.

"Sure," I nod, "I'll just drink Coke the rest of the night."

After a shot and three beers, Edward turns to me with a huge grin. "Want to put our name in for a go?" I roll my eyes. Edward loves doing karaoke, but only when he's three sheets to the wind.

Ten minutes later we're on the stage, doing our best Lady Gaga impersonations for _Bad Romance_. It's such fun seeing Edward kick back and relax. And he's got a great singing voice, of course. Is there anything about this man that isn't perfect?

Shortly after we return to our table, a good-looking Hispanic guy asks Edward to dance. Once I assure him that I'll be fine by myself, he gets up, heading to the dance floor.

I watch enviously as Edward dances with the tall, dark and handsome guy, smiling and laughing at something he says. Except for a couple of first dates, Edward has been single since Laurent, over six months now. He's a great catch, and I know I can't expect him to be single forever. I'm not ready to share him though — or worse, lose him. I know how selfish that makes me, but I can't help myself.

After just a couple of songs, Edward returns to our table alone, another drink in hand.

"What happened to your friend?" I ask curiously, nodding toward the dance floor. "He looked like he couldn't wait for you to bend him over the closest piece of furniture."

Edward takes a long drink of his beer, then sighs. "You know how I feel about one-night stands."

"Then go to dinner with him first. Seriously, he looked totally into you." It kills me to say it, but I won't let my feelings for Edward get in the way of what is best for him.

"I just wasn't feeling it," he replies with a shrug. "He was cute, yeah, but… there was nothing there. And I know what you're gonna say, that I didn't give it much of a chance." I grin — Edward says that to me all the time. "I think I'm doomed to be single."

"Right back at ya," I reply, clinking my glass of Coke to his bottle of beer.

Two hours later, I'm driving a completely wasted Edward back to his — _our_ house. I haven't seen him this drunk like ever, so I'm sure it's related to his patient. He's way too heavy for me to actually lift, but I manage to help him out of the car and into the house. I lead him to his bedroom where he flops onto the bed.

After pouring a glass of water in the kitchen and finding some aspirin, I leave those on Edward's nightstand then start tugging his shoes off. Slowly, I unbutton his shirt and slide it off of his shoulders. Thank God it's dark in the bedroom, as it keeps me from ogling his bare chest. I pause, then decide to take his jeans off as well, being careful not to touch his junk when I pull the zipper down.

I move to leave when Edward's hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. "Stay," he whispers.

"Edward…" I protest.

"Please?"

"Let me get ready for bed, then I'll come back." I'm sure he'll be asleep by then anyway.

Once I change into something more comfortable, I wash my face and brush my teeth, then go check on Edward. He seems to be dead to the world as I brush his hair back, my fingers lingering a little too long on his stubbly cheek.

"Get in bed," he mumbles. With a sigh, I walk around the bed and climb into the other side, turning to face the edge of the bed. Edward rolls over, wrapping one arm around me as he spoons behind me. "Thank you, Bella. I love you."

I wince, squeezing my eyes tightly closed. God, how I wish he'd say that and mean it the way that I mean it.

"I love you too, Edward."

* * *

I know it totally sounds like our relationship is very one-sided, but it's not like that at all. Besides my cooking, giving massages and acting as Edward's "beard" around his co-workers, we just have a lot in common and enjoy doing things together. Even when he's dating someone, Edward can't find a man who enjoys sports like he does, so I get to go with him to various sporting events. We have the same taste in movies and in bands; we've roadtripped to Atlanta to see a couple of concerts together.

Last summer, I even went with Edward to his brother, Emmett's, wedding back in Chicago. Their parents are as Bible Belt as they come, and believe homosexuality is an affront against God. Edward was with Laurent at the time, but there was no way he could take him as his date to the wedding. And if he had gone alone, his mom would have been all over him for not dating, so he invited me.

I had a great time in Chicago. His parents don't believe in sex before marriage, so they designated separate bedrooms for us at their house. We spent three days in town just acting like our usual selves, and it kept Edward's mom off his back. I could tell how much it hurt him though to know that his parents would never accept who he really is.

On the other hand, my mom is a wannabe hippie born just a little too late, so she's totally cool with Edward's sexuality, as is her husband. They think nothing of having him and whoever he's dating at the time over to their house for barbecues and whatnot. He's like part of the family.

When I first moved in with Edward, I was a little uncomfortable, generally acting like I was a guest in his home. But when I saw Edward walking around in nothing but his tight little boxer briefs, I gradually relaxed. I mean, I wasn't going to walk around naked like I would around Angela — don't judge, we shared a tiny dorm room together for four years — but I'd come to breakfast in my sleep clothes and no bra, or walk from the guest bathroom to my bedroom in just a towel.

I'd never have done anything like that whenever Ben slept over, but gradually I learned to think nothing of being partially undressed in front of Edward. Maybe it was due to some extent to my wanting him to see me as a sexually attractive being, I don't know. Ok, I'm sure that was definitely part of it. I wasn't going to outright flirt with him or come on to him, but if he just happened to notice my ass cheeks hanging out of my underwear…

I've even ended up in Edward's bed before. Instead of the couch, we'll sometimes watch movies curled up under the covers in his king-sized bed. I usually wake up at some point during the night and creep back to my own room.

But not tonight. Tonight I'm too comfortable in Edward's arms to go anywhere.

When I finally blink my eyes open, the hot Florida sun is already streaming through the windows. Stiff from lying in one position for so long, I try to stretch out. As my back arches, my ass comes in contact with what definitely feels like Edward's very hard cock behind me.

_It's not for you, it's a normal way for guys to wake up_, I chant to myself. I'm not stupid; I know guys have morning wood. I know Edward isn't hard because of me.

But I can't help wishing that it _was_ because of me.

"Mmm…" he moans, grinding his erection into me.

"Edward," I whisper, but he just squeezes me tighter against him, bucking into me again.

I reach my right hand up, stroking along his arm that's slung over me. "Wake up, Edward," I say more urgently. When he just continues grinding his cock into me, I elbow him in the ribs.

"Hmm… ow!" Suddenly I'm no longer warm and toasty, as Edward lifts his arm off of me and sits up. "Fuck, Bella, that hurt!"

"Well, it was either that or let you come all over my ass," I grumble.

"Oh. Fuck."

As much as it kills me to do it, I sit up too, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I can't help looking down at the tent in his underwear, a small wet spot right in the middle. "Better go take care of that monster in the shower," I say flippantly, patting his cheek as I stand up and waltz out of Edward's room.

If I didn't get out of there right the hell now, I was so going to offer to take care of it for him.

* * *

**A/N:** Especially for those who haven't read the one-shot, what do you think of Edward's behavior in this chapter?


	3. All The Right Moves

**Author Note:** Thanks to everyone for the continuing great response to this story!

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 3 — All The Right Moves_

It's just under a five-hour drive straight down I-95 from Jacksonville to Fort Lauderdale, but Edward and I catch a non-stop flight late Thursday morning instead, then take a cab from the airport to the resort hotel on the beach where the medical conference is being held. Our room is on the sixth floor, with an amazing ocean view.

I am a little surprised to see that the room has just one king-sized bed, but I don't question it, assuming that there were no rooms available with two queens. I've stayed out of Edward's bed since the morning dry-hump incident, but if he's ok with sharing a bed for three nights, then so am I.

Edward and I spend the afternoon together checking out the area around our hotel, then head back to the room to change for the evening's networking reception. Since I don't have an unlimited wardrobe budget, I'm recycling the red dress that Edward picked out for me to wear to Emmett's wedding last year — he and I are the only ones who will know anyway. Edward of course looks dashing in his dark blue suit and striped tie.

As we sample the hors d'oeuvres and wine, I'm introduced to more doctors that I can possibly keep straight. Only because I am so attuned to his facial expressions do I notice Edward's eyes narrow as a good-looking blond man makes his way over to us.

"Edward," the man calls, holding his hand out, "Good to see you again."

Edward reaches out to shake the man's hand, giving what I know is his fake smile. "Mike," he nods.

"Who's your lovely date?" Mike asks.

"This is Isabella Swan," Edward answers, putting his arm around me. "Bella, this is Michael Newton. We went to med school together."

"It's nice to meet you," I say, reaching my hand out to shake his. Instead, Mike lifts my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it.

"Likewise. What is it you do, Bella?" Mike asks with a smile.

"I'm—"

"She's a writer," Edward interrupts before I can admit to my lowly position as a waitress. At least I've moved up from the diner to a nice seafood restaurant.

"Oh! Have you written anything I would have read?"

"I'm working on a novel, but I've had freelance pieces published in a few magazines and our local newspaper. You probably haven't read anything," I admit. After my first novel was soundly rejected, I was pretty discouraged and didn't write for a while, but I hope to have my second attempt ready to send out to various publishers in a few weeks.

As we chat, I try not to roll my eyes at Mike's blatant flirting, right in front of Edward, who's all but pissing on me to mark his territory.

"Mike, please excuse us," Edward finally says. "We have dinner reservations to get to." We do? Edward grabs my arm, basically dragging me away from Mike and out of the ballroom.

"What the hell was that about?" I ask him, wrenching my arm free once we reach the hallway.

"I went to med school with that guy, Bella," Edward replies in a huff. "He's a total manwhore."

"So?"

"So he was totally putting the moves on you."

Now I can't help rolling my eyes. "I'm aware of that, but that doesn't mean I was falling for it. I can look out for myself, you know."

"Yeah? You did a great job of that with Tyler."

I react as if Edward slapped me, shocked that he would bring up the worst moment of my life. Almost immediately I see the apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that," he says quietly, resting his cheek on top of my head. "It's just… I care about you so much, and I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I wasn't falling for his charms," I tell him, pulling back to look him in the eye. "Really, I'm smarter now. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that. I don't need you to step in and act like my father."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I didn't make reservations, but did you want to maybe try that sushi place we saw down the street?"

"You think you can earn my forgiveness with sushi, huh?" I ask, one eyebrow raised.

Edward grins. "I know how easy you are."

"Jackass." I slap his chest for good measure.

* * *

"So what are you planning on doing all day?" Edward asks as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror tying his necktie.

"I will be spending the day at the beach," I announce, pulling my new bikini from my suitcase and laying it on the bed.

"Don't forget the sunscreen."

"Yes, Doctor Worry-Wart." I roll my eyes, though he can't see me.

"What the hell is that?"

"What's what?" I ask, looking up at Edward as he steps out of the bathroom.

"That," he says, pointing at my bikini.

I pick up the dark blue string bikini, holding it up in front of me. "You like? I picked it out myself when the store down the street from your house put all the summer things on clearance."

Edward stares at me for a moment, then runs his hand through his hair. "Where's the rest of it?"

"It's a bikini, Edward," I reply slowly. "Surely you know what that is. You saw my other one a couple weeks ago."

"But… this one is… smaller. You're seriously going to wear that in public?"

"Oh my God, you don't have to see me in it!" I almost have to turn away so Edward doesn't see how hurt I am right now.

"What?" he asks, sounding confused.

"If you're disgusted by the sight of my girly bits, you don't have to see them." I walk toward the bathroom, trying to blink away the tears that are threatening.

"Bella," he starts, grabbing my arm as I try to walk past him. "It's not _me_ seeing you that's the problem, silly girl. It's all of the other guys at the beach."

"Aren't you usually the one telling me to show off my 20-something body?" Wait, so he's _not_ disgusted by me?

"I… I just don't want to see you have to deal with the wrong kind of attention."

"Edward, seriously… I already have two fathers; I don't need another one."

"You're right, you're right," he replies, grabbing at his hair again. "I'm sorry. I'll see you tonight — be ready by six-thirty."

Edward kisses my cheek as he leaves the room — leaving me standing there wondering what the hell is up with him. If he was a girl, I'd say he's PMS-ing. Is there a male version of that? Maybe he just needs to get laid.

* * *

After a relaxing day tanning and swimming, I head back to our room around five o'clock to shower and get dressed for tonight's dinner. This time I'm actually wearing a new black dress that Edward took me shopping for last weekend. I'm just finishing up my make-up when Edward returns to the room.

"Hey," he smiles, looking me up and down. "Nice."

"You picked it out, as if you've forgotten."

"I have good taste," he grins.

After freshening up in the bathroom, Edward leads me downstairs to the hotel ballroom where the dinner is being held. We have an amazing meal with fresh local fish and key lime pie for dessert, then it's time for the business portion of the evening, where several of the doctors are to be recognized for their work over the past year.

By the third speech, Edward and I have made a drinking game out of it — sipping the delicious wine whenever the words "outstanding achievement" or "dedicated physician" are uttered. At long last, we're dismissed — it's nearly 10pm. As I stand up from the table, I realize exactly how much I drank during our little game — not to mention the cocktails before dinner. Edward, however, seems to be completely unaffected.

"Why aren't you drunk, too?" I complain. "You drank as much as I did."

"Because I outweigh you by 50 pounds," he points out. Oh yeah. "Come on," he says, putting one arm around me. "Let's get you upstairs."

Once we reach our hotel room, Edward heads straight for the bathroom while I remove my earrings and the rest of my jewelry, setting them on the dresser. I pull off my strappy black heels and try to unzip my dress, but in my slightly tipsy state, I'm not very successful.

"Edward," I call, "Come help me unzip my dress."

Edward steps out of the bathroom, his dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned halfway down. His tie is in his hand, and he tosses it onto the dresser on his way to where I'm standing. When he reaches me, I turn around, lifting my hair up out of the way.

Goosebumps erupt as Edward tugs the troublesome zipper down for me. When it reaches the bottom, I expect him to step away, but instead he places his hands on my shoulders, pushing the straps of the dress off my shoulders until it falls to the floor.

Stepping out of the dress, I turn around to face him and see that Edward is staring down at my body. I realize too late that I'm just wearing a tiny black thong — VPL is a bitch — and matching lace push-up bra. His gaze travels up, finally reaching my eyes, and I see a pink tint on his cheeks. Embarrassed at seeing me in so little clothing… or embarrassed that he just got caught checking me out?

Time stands still as Edward's beautiful green eyes stare into mine, before darting down toward my lips and back again.

I'm drunk, but I'm not stupid — I know that's the universal sign for, "_I want to kiss you._" But why would Edward want to kiss _me_? Especially when all of my girly bits are practically on display to remind him that I'm not what he prefers. But then his tongue darts out to moisten his pouty lips. Holy shit, I think he really _does_ want to kiss me! I take a half step closer, letting him know that I'm ok with this, but still he doesn't make a move.

Very slowly, I stand up on my tiptoes — really wishing I'd left my high-heeled shoes on about now — and lean in toward his lips. When Edward doesn't pull away, I carefully touch my lips to his, just for a second. When he still doesn't move, I do it again, keeping the kiss very light.

My first thought: _Oh my God, I just kissed Edward!_

My second thought: _Holy fuck, his lips are soft!_

I look up into Edward's gorgeous eyes and they seem darker now. "Again," he whispers.

I press my lips to his again and this time, I feel him kiss me back, moving his lips tentatively against mine. We continue to trade soft kisses before I feel Edward's hands on either side of my waist. One hand pulls me close while the other trails up my torso, skimming over my breast until it reaches my face. He tilts my chin just the way he wants and deepens the kiss, his tongue peeking out again to taste my lips.

Well, that's all the encouragement I need. I loop my arms around Edward's neck, pulling myself closer to him as we continue to kiss. Part of me thinks I must be dreaming this, but his warm body against mine feels so freakin' real.

I lose myself in Edward's kisses until I feel him walking me backwards. When the backs of my legs hit the bed, I sit down, scooting up until my head is lying on the pillow. Edward quickly climbs over me, pulling my lips back to his as if he can't bear to be separated from me.

I have no idea how long we continue kissing. My hands roam up and down Edward's back while his fingers lightly trace a path over my abdomen. At some point I realize that if this is going to go any further, I'm going to have to be the one to initiate it. I'd never ordinarily do something like that, but the alcohol running through my veins is making me brave. On my next downward path, I let my hands drift further down, until they're below the bottom of Edward's untucked shirt. I carefully slide them up under his shirt, the heat from his skin burning my fingers.

In a very short time, just touching his back isn't enough. With my lips still attached to his, I remove my hands from under his shirt and bring them around to his front, finishing the job he'd started with the buttons. I push his shirt off of his shoulders as he helps me by shrugging out of it.

_Oh my God, I'm touching Edward's chest!_

I'm hungry, trying to touch every square inch of him at once, but it's difficult with his body almost pressed up against mine. I push on one side of Edward's chest and he gets the hint, rolling over onto his back. I climb over him, greedily stroking every piece of skin I can reach before leaning down to suck one of his nipples lightly into my mouth.

It's still not enough.

My hands move down his happy trail to the fly on Edward's pants, hurriedly getting the zipper down. He lifts his hips as I tug his dress pants down and I know he wants this, too.

Holy fuck! I look up once I've got his pants off and realize that Edward is hard — and this time I _know_ it's for me. Swallowing hard, I begin tracing my finger along the waistband of his dark gray boxer briefs, watching as his eyes darken further.

When he nods, I hook my fingers into both sides and slowly begin pulling his underwear off. I'm too nervous to actually look at his naked body until I've tossed them to the floor.

Oh. My. God. Now let's be honest — most penises are really not all that attractive. But I swear Edward's is pretty. It's long, and just thick enough. And — bonus! — he manscapes. I stop and drool for a second before wrapping one hand around the base of his cock.

I pump up from the base to the tip twice before rubbing my thumb over the head to collect the pre-cum, spreading it around. There's not a sound in the room as I continue to move my hand up and down, beyond our heavy breathing.

And it's still not enough.

I want all of Edward; I want to taste him. But I'm chicken shit. I mean, Edward's been with men, and who would know how to _give_ a blowjob better than a man who knows exactly how he likes to receive? There's no way I can be the best head he's ever had.

But I won't be anything if I don't try. I take a deep breath, then lean forward, licking his cock from base to trip before sucking the head into my mouth.

"Jesus, Bella," he moans. _That's a good thing, right?_ "You don't have to do this."

"I want to," I assure him.

Edward reaches out, gathering my hair and holding it off my face so he can watch unobstructed as I suck his cock. I don't know why that's so fucking hot. I break out all of my best moves, swirling my tongue around the head, taking him in as far as I can, tonguing the slit on top, rolling his balls in one of my hands. I listen carefully for all of his little moans and whimpers to know when I'm doing something that he really likes.

"Bella, move," he chokes out after several minutes. Oh no, Edward — I intend to finish what I started. I suck even harder, hollowing my cheeks, and seconds later he's coming in long spurts down my throat. I swallow quickly then lick him clean.

Sitting up, I feel pretty damn proud of myself as Edward stares up at me, still breathing heavily. After a few moments, I lean over again, kissing my way back up his torso, then lie down, cuddled up against his side.

Or at least I try to.

Just after I lay my head on his chest, Edward rolls me onto my back, crashing his lips into mine. My first reaction is shock, as every man I've been with — not that there have been more than a handful — refuses to kiss me right after I've gone down on him.

But this is Edward — he's obviously not afraid of a little jizz.

Edward kisses me passionately, his hands slipping underneath me to unhook my bra. He pulls it down my arms then attaches his lips to my right breast, sucking on my nipple until it's hard and aching. He switches sides then, bringing his hand up to squeeze and massage the first breast.

Suddenly he's sliding down the bed, grasping the sides of my panties and pulling them off. I cry out when one long finger brushes between my legs.

"Is this ok?"

When I nod furiously, Edward's lips return to mine as his finger finds my entrance, pushing inside easily given that I'm gushing like Niagara Falls for him. His thumb circles my clit and I'm more turned on than I've ever been in my life. For a man who's not well acquainted with the female anatomy, Edward is bringing me to orgasm very quickly.

Edward abruptly stops kissing my neck, sliding back down the bed. He stops then looks up at me, his cheeks flaming pink again.

"Um, I've never done this before, so… let me know what you like, ok?" I nod, holding my breath as Edward's tongue tentatively laps at me.

Now I know I must be dreaming… Edward is going down on me? Hell yes! He's clearly unsure of himself, but he's flicking me with his tongue in exactly the right spot while two fingers continue to pump in and out. When he flattens his tongue against me, I cry out and he presses harder. I shamelessly grind myself on his face.

"Suck on it," I whisper and he quickly obeys — the boy takes direction well. Moments later, I'm coming, thrashing around on the bed as his tongue continues to move against me. "Too… much… stop now," I beg.

With a huge grin on his face, Edward begins licking and kissing his way back up my body, just as I had done to him. He sucks on each breast on his way up, then finishes with a light kiss on my lips before sitting back and moving to get off the bed.

"Where are you going?" I pant.

"My wallet is in my jacket pocket." I look at him questioningly. "Condom," he clarifies as I realize he's hard again.

Oh. My. God. This is really happening — we're going to have sex. But I don't want any barriers between us; I want to feel all of him.

"I get the shot," I tell him quickly. "And I was tested after… the incident."

"I'm clean, too," he replies. "I've never had sex without a condom before, but I get tested regularly."

"I trust you."

Smiling, Edward stretches out on top of me again, kissing me while one hand moves to his cock, positioning it at my entrance. I brace myself for him to push inside, since it's been awhile and he's a pretty respectable size.

Edward slows his kisses and stares into my eyes as he joins us together for the first time. Once he's all the way in, I wrap my legs and arms around him, encouraging him to move. He leans down to kiss me gently, then finally, finally begins to move.

"Oh God," he moans. _I hear ya, Edward._ I'm not dreaming; I think I've died and gone to heaven.

I lift my hips to meet his slow thrusts, kissing all over his jaw and neck. I want to tell him that his previous girlfriends were _nuts_ to think he's bad in bed, but I'm afraid that speaking will break the spell we're under.

"So good, Bella," he groans, his thrusts speeding up. I can hardly contain my smile at his use of my name — he's making love to _me_, not just the naked body in his bed.

Edward wraps his arms around me, then abruptly rolls us over so that I'm on top. I sit up, bracing my hands on his shoulders, while his hands move to my breasts.

"Fuck, you look so good riding me…"

Holy hell, Edward likes to talk dirty! I continue to move above him, arching my back to press my breasts into his hands. I'm shocked when Edward sits up too, wrapping his arms around me as he kisses me desperately. One hand snakes down between us as his thumb begins rubbing my clit again. I want this to go on forever, but I can't stop my orgasm from barreling through me.

"God, Edward," I moan as I feel him jerk, spilling inside me. I slow my movements, breathing heavily as I come down from my high.

"I love you so much, Edward," I whisper, hugging him tightly.

Oh God. What the hell was I thinking to say that? Even if it's true, it's way too soon to say something like that. What if I just freaked him out?

Edward closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. My breathing is almost back to normal when he finally kisses me sweetly. I never want to move from this spot. Unfortunately…

"I need to go clean up," I whisper, still afraid of breaking the spell. Edward nods, letting me go. I reluctantly detach myself from him and escape to the bathroom.

When I come back, Edward is lying flat on his back under the covers, his eyes closed. He looks to be asleep — which would be just like a man. I dig around in my suitcase for some sleep clothes and climb into bed beside him. I'm startled when Edward reaches out, pulling me toward him and wrapping his arms around me again. Laying my head on his chest, I close my eyes.

No matter what happens in the light of day, I'll be reliving _this_ night in my dreams for years to come.

* * *

**A/N:** So, uh, the one-shot won Best Lemon in the Friends to Lovers contest.

For those who haven't read it, what do you think is going to happen in the morning? For the rest of you, let me know what you're thinking anyway! :)


	4. About Last Night

**Author Note:** Thanks to everyone for the continuing great response to this story!

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

**The second half of this chapter is brand new from the one-shot!**

* * *

_Chapter 4 — About Last Night_

I wake up alone in the huge bed, wondering if last night was a dream after all. As I stand up and feel the delicious ache between my thighs, however, I know it was real.

_Holy shit, I slept with Edward last night!_

But now he's MIA. A quick glance at my phone tells me it's five minutes after nine, so it's no wonder he's gone, since his conference started at eight. I wonder why he didn't wake me up when he left, though? I look around the room for a note of some kind, but I don't see anything.

Edward had told me yesterday that he might be free for lunch today, so I text him to ask. When there's no response after a few minutes, I take care of business in the bathroom and then check again. Still no response.

Sighing, I step into the shower. I check my phone again when I come out, but still no text from Edward. My phone finally beeps while I'm getting dressed.

**Having lunch with an old professor. See you tonight.**

I try to tell myself not to read too much into it, but it's not working. Last night was the best night of my life. I wanted to wake up in Edward's arms this morning, not an empty bed. What if he regrets last night? What if it didn't mean as much to him as it did to me? What if… I'm not enough for him?

I need to call Angela; she'll at least have some perspective. But I can't bother her at work; maybe at lunchtime.

I had planned to go shopping today, but I don't feel like it right now. Instead, I put my bikini on again, grab my sunblock and a hat, then head down to the beach, where I sit staring out at the ocean for two hours.

At noon, I call Angela. "I had sex with Edward," I blurt out when she answers the phone.

"_Say that again._"

"I had sex with Edward last night."

"_For real?_" she asks.

"Yes, for real. I haven't had a dirty dream about him in months." At least none that I can remember.

"_Tell me everything._"

I explain last night to her as best I can, though I'm still not sure exactly what happened, how we got from Edward helping with my zipper to having sex. When I get to the part where I woke up alone, it's all I can do not to cry.

"What does it mean, Ang?" I ask her desperately. "He's totally avoiding me."

"_Bella,_" she begins calmly, "_This is a huge deal to him. I mean, you've had feelings for him for ages, but we don't know how new this is to him. Maybe he's just overwhelmed and needs to think._"

I pout, but I know in my heart she might be right. "Why aren't you more shocked by this? I was there and I can still hardly believe it."

"_You are so clueless,_" she chuckles. "_I don't know how you never noticed the way he's been looking at you the last couple of times I saw you together. He looked totally smitten when you two were dancing at my wedding._"

"He did?" I mean, I had noticed something odd about the way he complimented my appearance, but…

"_Bella, he couldn't take his eyes off of you — really. It was cute._"

"Do you think he has feelings for me, too?" I ask hesitantly.

"_Well, of course he does. The question is, is that enough._"

Yeah. Yeah, that's the real question.

Feeling a bit better after my conversation with Angela, I grab some lunch in one of the hotel restaurants then spend the rest of the afternoon shopping. After another quick shower, I recycle the dress from Angela's wedding then check the time, wondering where Edward is. Just as I am holding my phone, it beeps with a new text.

**Meet you in the restaurant.**

He is _definitely_ avoiding me, I grumble as I take the elevator up to the top floor, where we're having dinner tonight. There will be no speeches after dinner this time, thank God, as I really need to talk to Edward.

I walk into the restaurant, quickly spotting him chatting with a couple of middle-aged men. He turns around as I reach him, pulling me close with one arm around my back and kissing my cheek.

"After dinner we'll talk," he whispers in my ear. I nod to let him know I heard him, then put on my best smile as I'm introduced to his two companions.

Throughout dinner, Edward periodically reaches down to rub my thigh, but he never really speaks to me directly except to ask me if I'm enjoying my meal. Meanwhile, I'm plotting ways to kick his ass when I get him alone.

When we finish our dessert, I am ready to leave, but Edward is still chatting with the doctors sitting across from us. I try not to let him see how impatient I am. Finally he stands up, pulling my chair out for me.

With one hand on the small of my back, Edward leads me to the elevator, following behind another couple. When he presses the button for the Lobby instead of our floor, I look at him questioningly.

"Um, come take a walk with me on the beach," he says, looking suddenly nervous — which in turn makes _me_ extremely nervous.

When we reach the ground floor, Edward takes hold of my hand, leading us out a back door and down to the beach. I quickly figure out that it's next to impossible to walk on sand in high heels, so I take my shoes off, carrying them in the hand he's not holding.

We walk at least a hundred yards down the beach before he finally clears his throat and speaks. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "For avoiding you today."

Dropping my shoes to the ground, I resist the urge to make a snotty remark and remain silent, wanting to hear what he has to say for himself.

"I just… I had a lot of thinking to do. I don't think I heard one word of my lectures all day today," he chuckles. "My mind just kept playing last night on a loop, over and over again."

He sighs, stopping and turning to me. "Bella, I'm gay. I've known this for over half my life, even if I didn't really come to terms with it until about 10 years ago. I—"

"Stop," I almost shout. "You don't need to say it. I get it." I can't listen to Edward tell me how wrong last night was. I can't.

"What?" he asks, sounding confused.

"I know you regret last night," I whisper.

"You think I regret it?" Edward sighs again, his hand tugging hard on his hair as he squeezes his eyes tightly closed.

"I'm fucking this up," he mutters, shaking his head. "Ok, forget the full explanation," he says, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"I don't know exactly how it happened, but Bella — I love you," he declares, taking both of my hands in his as he looks me in the eye. "I'm _in love_ with you. You are everything I want. You're everything I _need_."

"But you're… I mean, what about my girl parts?" A tear trickles down my cheek as I wonder if I can dare let myself believe his words.

"I kinda had fun with your girl parts last night," he replies with a grin.

"But you just said…"

"I'm attracted to men, yes. And women, to a lesser extent. I've considered myself gay for years primarily because I've had much more successful relationships with men. But I guess technically… I'd be considered bi. All I've ever really wanted was to find the one person — male or female — who could make me happy, who could complete me.

"Since you moved in with me, I've never been happier. I can't imagine you ever leaving. I'm in love with _you_, Bella — with the amazing person you are on the inside. That's what counts. The outside just… it dictates how we have fun," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "I love your body and all of your girl parts because I love _you_."

I can't help laughing through my tears.

"I love you too, Edward. So much. But are you sure you can live without, _you know_… I mean, should I buy a strap-on?"

Edward laughs loudly, until I finally hit him to shut him up. "How can I put this delicately…? I have always had the more, _active_, role, you could say."

"You mean you're a top."

"Well, yeah," he replies, rolling his eyes. "Being with you really isn't all that much different. Of course, we could even—"

"You're not getting near my ass!" I yell preemptively, and he laughs again. "Seriously, Edward… am I enough for you? Do you need more in bed than I can give you? Please be honest with me."

"You are more than enough, Pretty Girl," he smiles, brushing a tear from my cheek. He leans in then, kissing me gently before wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tightly.

I soak up the feeling of being held in Edward's arms, then remember how pissed I was that he left me to wake up alone this morning. Pulling back, I smack him in the chest.

"What was _that_ for?" he pouts.

"For sneaking out of our room this morning."

"Bella," he sighs, "I'm sorry. Really sorry. I know it must've sucked to wake up alone. I just… I needed to think about us."

"Think about whether or not you wanted me?" I ask in a small voice.

"_No_," he replies emphatically. "I've known for weeks — months — that I felt more for you than friendship, but—"

"You _what_?" I screech. "I never imagined that you — why didn't you say something?" I shake my head.

"It's not my fault that you're exceptionally unobservant," he replies with a grin. "I was afraid of messing up our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."

I go to hit him again, but he grabs my hand, stopping me. "You know, I'm the one who should be smacking you for the way you've teased me ever since you moved in with me."

"Teased you?" I ask, confused.

"Walking around in your tiny little underwear in front of me," he replies, one eyebrow raised.

I feel my face flush. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

"Oh, I definitely noticed. Now how about we go back to our room so I can get better acquainted with those girl parts that you were so fond of showing me."

"I think that sounds like the best idea you've ever had."

Grinning, Edward kneels down in front of me, then turns his head to look up at me. "Hop on."

I quickly put my shoes back on then climb onto Edward's back, hugging him securely around the neck as I wrap my legs around him. When he stands up, I suck hard on his neck, then bite him gently, right over that cute little mole.

"If you give me a hickey," he warns, "You're gonna pay for that when I get you alone."

"Bring it on, Cullen."

* * *

When we reach our hotel room, Edward bends down so that I can climb off of his back. Yes, he gave me a piggyback ride all the way through the hotel and up the elevator. We got more than a few looks, but I couldn't care less.

Once I'm on the floor, he turns around to face me, and the look in his eyes is so… intense. He slowly brings his right hand up, brushing my hair behind my ear. And then he takes my hand, walking backwards as he leads me to the king-sized bed.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Edward stares up at me, and I see nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. I'm suddenly nervous. It's funny, I don't remember feeling nervous last night, but maybe that was just the fault of the alcohol.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "Strip for me."

Smiling, I reach around my body and unzip the short zipper at the bottom of my back. Then I bring my arms up, unhooking the halter around my neck, and the dress falls to the floor, leaving me in just my lacy panties and my shoes. I step out of the soft fabric, kicking it to the side, then start to reach down to take my high heels off.

"Leave them," Edward says gruffly. He motions for me to step closer, and as soon as he can reach me, he pulls me to stand between his thighs.

My whole body feels like it's vibrating with anticipation, wondering what he's going to do next. I find out just moments later, when his tongue darts out, licking a trail across the top of my left breast. After doing the same to its twin, he holds each of my breasts in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the nipples.

"These are nice," he says quietly. "Not too big or too small."

"They're not very big," I argue.

"Big enough," he shrugs. He leans forward again, sucking my right nipple into mouth. He bites down gently then blows on it.

"Having fun?" I ask, amused, as he repeats his actions with my other breast.

"Mmm…" he replies, sucking it deeply into his mouth. I guess that's a "yes."

The girls are still perky enough that he doesn't really need to hold them up, so eventually he lets his hands drop, stroking them up and down my sides as he alternates between my breasts, loving them with his mouth.

For a long while, I watch how intent he is in his exploration, but as I start to feel better and better, I close my eyes, concentrating only on the feel of his mouth and his tongue. When he pulls away, I open my eyes, staring down at him.

"My turn to touch you now?" I ask, one eyebrow raised.

He shakes his head. "Go lie on the bed, on your front."

"Yes, sir," I reply with a smile. Once I'm on my stomach, I fold my arms underneath my chin, waiting for whatever is coming next.

I can feel the mattress move as Edward stands up, and then his hands on my feet as he gently removes one of my shoes. He pushes his thumbs into the arch on the bottom of my foot and I sigh in contentment. Continuing up my leg, his thumbs soothe my overworked calf muscles from those fucking heels.

When he reaches my knee, he moves to the other foot, removing my shoe before again massaging his way up my calf. He kneels on the bed then, spreading my legs and working his way up the backs of my thighs simultaneously.

I'm just wearing a thong again, so I'm aware that he's getting a pretty good view of my naked ass. I hope it meets his approval — he's probably an ass man.

Lifting the g-string, he runs his finger along the inside of the skimpy fabric. "So much sexier than men's underwear," he chuckles. His hands move to squeeze and massage my ass cheeks, and then I feel his lips kiss just above the top of my panties.

"I love these little dimples you have back here," he says.

"Do I?" I chuckle. "I can't see them."

"Trust me — they're hot." He kisses them again, his hands never stopping their rhythmic stroking.

Suddenly I feel my panties being lowered, but both of Edward's hands are still on my ass. I turn around to look over my shoulder, and holy fuck! He's removing them with his _teeth_. Once they're around my upper thighs, he places a soft kiss in the middle of my right cheek. I shudder when he begins licking and sucking all over one side before moving to the other.

"What are you doing, Cullen?" I ask in alarm as he gets dangerously close to the crack in my ass.

"Not ready for that?" he asks. I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "Do you like this better?" And with that, the fingers of one hand drift down between my legs, spreading my wetness. The tips of his fingers dip inside me, then move up to circle my clit, then back again and again… it's maddening!

"Edward!" I protest.

"Shhh, baby. I'll take care of you, I promise."

He finally removes my panties completely and then his hand is right back between my legs. One long finger enters me fully and then a second, brushing in and out at a slow pace. He kisses just above my ass again, then begins trailing his kisses up my spine, never stopping the movement of his fingers.

With his free hand, he moves my long hair over one shoulder, then begins kissing and sucking the other. "I love you, Bella," he whispers.

And then all of a sudden, his fingers speed up their movements, and he curls them a bit each time he pulls them back out. "Fuck," I cry out, lifting my hips off the bed. He keeps fucking me with his fingers while he sucks on my neck until I'm coming, pounding my fists on the bed as I scream.

When his hand finally stills, I hear the sound of him licking his fingers, groaning softly, before he moves off the bed. Still blissed out, I turn my head just as he pulls his tie over his head. He opens the buttons of his dress shirt as quickly as he can, then strips out of his pants and boxer briefs at the same time. I lick my lips as his hard cock bounces up to hit his naked stomach.

"My turn now?" I ask.

"Nope, don't move." Well, well, Edward can be a little bossy. I turn to face forward again, lying my head on my arms.

Resuming his position between my legs, he runs his cock all along my slit, gathering up the remains of my orgasm, before slowly pushing inside. Holy fuck, he feels big from this position.

Once he's buried inside me as far as he can go, Edward slowly pulls nearly all the way out before pushing in again. He builds up a steady pace with long, deep strokes, always pulling out achingly slowly then pushing in hard and fast.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Bella," he groans. "Being inside you bare, it's just…"

Leaning forward, he begins dropping kisses all over my upper back and shoulder. He's starting to breathe heavily and for some reason, that's so fucking hot. Bracing himself on his forearms, he brings his hands underneath me to cup my breasts, playing with my nipples again.

"Shit," he moans, pulling out. "Turn over."

I quickly obey, staring up at Edward as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He scoots forward, then takes hold of his glistening cock to line himself up with my entrance. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until he's inside me again. I bring my legs up to wrap around his waist, watching the intent look on his face as he resumes his thrusts.

"Harder, Edward," I beg. He puts his hands up near my shoulders and speeds up his thrusts, and God, he's good at this. Once again, I can't stop thinking of his three teenage girlfriends and how they could possibly have had anything to complain about.

Suddenly he leans down, taking my lips in his. I kiss him back eagerly, wrapping my arms around his back, then moving them down to his ass to push him in harder and faster. I'm so close to coming for a second time.

"Bella, fuck," he groans, "Can't… hold on… much longer."

I tilt my hips and try to meet his thrusts, and oh God, right there, right…

"Edward… God," I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. I throw my head back, feeling the shudders ripple through my body.

"Oh my God," he moans, and then I feel him coming deep inside. He collapses on top of me, panting a few times before capturing my lips for a passionate kiss.

"I love you so much," he whispers, brushing my sweaty hair out of my face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you last night."

"I was so afraid I'd freaked you out."

"No, baby, no… you just said the words I'd been longing to hear." I smile at him, then wince a little as he pulls out of me, rolling onto his back beside me.

Edward tries to pull me into his arms, but I sit up, shaking my head. "I need to clean up first. Sex without a condom is a bit messy."

"I guess I know that now," he chuckles.

"I'll be right back," I promise.

Once I've cleaned up, I finish my nightly routine, washing my face and brushing my teeth. I nearly run into Edward on my way out of the bathroom.

"Uh, I guess I should do that, too," he smiles. "Go wait for me in bed."

Shaking my head at the mess of clothes on the floor, I pick them up and drape them over a chair. I don't really want to have to dry clean my dress yet.

Shortly after I crawl into bed, Edward joins me, spooning behind me. "Did you ever notice how your body fits perfectly in mine?" he asks quietly over my shoulder.

"I did," I answer, "But I always tried not to think about it. It hurt sometimes, loving you but thinking you could never return my feelings."

He kisses my shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Bella," he whispers. "I'm sorry it took me awhile to get here, but now that I am, I plan to spend the rest of my life making sure you never hurt again."

Fuck… I feel a tear trail down my face at his words. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Cullen."

* * *

**A/N:** All right, we're heading into the continuation now! The focus is on the challenges that Bella and Edward will face due to their rather unique situation. I will say up front that there are a LOT of lemons. If that isn't your thing, feel free to skim them. But I think that their sexual compatibility is a large part of what they'll have to face, beyond dealing with the outside world.

This is pre-written, so you can't influence me, but I'd love to hear what you'd like to see, or what you're expecting, from the continuation!

Next update on Monday!


	5. Meet The Parents

**Author Note:** Thanks to all who have Favorited or Followed! The response to this story has been amazing!

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

**Now on to the continuation!**

* * *

_Chapter 5 — Meet The Parents_

_Saturday, September 14, 2013_

I feel like I've been living a dream since Edward and I arrived home on Tuesday afternoon. I had to work the dinner shift at the restaurant that night, but I came home to my gorgeous roommate — no, _boyfriend_ — waiting up for me.

And he was dressed only in a pair of boxers. Thank you, Jesus.

Within minutes, we had moved to his bedroom and he was on top of me, getting better acquainted with my girl parts. Confidentially, I think Edward is a boob man.

After a brief discussion the next day, we decided that I'd officially keep my own room — Edward has almost as many clothes as I do and I'd never fit my stuff in his closet and drawers — but would sleep in Edward's room.

Oh, he had some sort of self-sacrificing idea that I should sleep in my own bed when he has to work crazy hospital shifts, but for the most part, he's just working a normal 9-to-5 shift at his medical practice. My hours are crazier than his.

I talked to my mom about having a barbecue in her backyard on Saturday to celebrate my 27th birthday, but I didn't tell her that things had changed between Edward and me. I was going to, but then… I wasn't sure why I needed to make some big issue of it. We were friends; now we're more. The fact that Edward hasn't actually dated women in 12 years shouldn't be a big deal.

But I know it's actually a very big deal.

The two of us spent my birthday on Friday night having dinner with Angela and Ben before going out to see a movie with them. My friends were just thrilled for us, with Angela pulling me aside in the ladies room to tell me that Edward looks at me like a lovesick puppy. Of course she'd already informed Ben that we were together, but he seemed to totally take it in stride.

After we got home last night, Edward confessed to me that he was a little worried about Angela's and Ben's reactions — but not nearly as worried as he is about his own gay friends, who usually joke that men are either "gay, straight or lying" and not truly bisexual.

But before we cross that bridge, we have to face my parents. In about 20 minutes. _Oh fuck._

* * *

"Bella, are you almost ready?" Edward calls.

"Be out in a minute!" Yeah, that's the other reason I need to keep my own bedroom — I need my own bathroom, even if it is the guest bathroom off the hallway and not an en suite. Who the heck designed this house with a master bath that doesn't have two sinks?

I finish primping my hair, spray some hairspray, then put on a pair of earrings before stepping out of the bathroom.

"Nice," Edward grins, looking me up and down. I notice his eyes lingering on my bare legs beneath my sundress. I walk up to him and he puts his arms around me, kissing me lightly while his hands trail down to squeeze my ass cheeks.

I raise an eyebrow as he pulls away — though I'm secretly thrilled. "Groping me now?"

He shrugs. "I imagine I shouldn't do that in front of your parents, so I'm doing it now."

"You can be… affectionate with me in front of my parents, Edward. But yeah — no groping."

He sighs, raking his hand through his already-messy hair. "Do you really think they'll be ok with us?"

"Of course they will," I reply, trying to sound more positive than I actually am. "Both Mom and Phil love you."

"As a friend to you — your _gay_ friend."

"You're still the same person they last saw three weeks ago, Edward," I tell him softly. I don't want to see the man I love so… unsure of himself. Edward is always so confident. I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Come on, let's go before Mom yells at me for being late."

One advantage of having a boyfriend with money is that he drives a nice car. Not something totally ostentatious like an Aston Martin, but a 2012 Corvette convertible. Why did I bother styling my hair again? I dig around in my purse, finding a hair tie to put my long hair up in a ponytail for the 10-mile trip to my mom and stepdad's house.

Edward turns on a Top 40 radio station and we amuse ourselves singing along with the tunes, trying to keep a light attitude on the outside to cover the nervousness we both feel on the inside.

My phones vibrates with a text and I pull it out of the side of my purse, smiling at the message. "Mom says they're in the backyard starting the grill, and where the heck are we."

**Be there in about five minutes**, I text back.

Once Edward parks in my parents' driveway, I pull out the hair tie, finger-combing my hair until it feels at least somewhat tamed.

"So how do you want to do this?" Edward asks, taking my hand as I walk around the car to join him.

"We could walk in like this," I shrug. "Holding hands."

"The subtle approach?" he smiles.

"I think… I think if _we_ don't make a big deal out of it, then neither will they."

"You've known them longer than I have," he chuckles. He tugs my hand until I step closer, then lets go so that he can cradle my face in both of his hands. "I love you, Bella."

I kiss him gently, then hurriedly wipe off the trace of lip gloss I left behind. "I love you too."

Smiling, Edward takes my hand again, leading me toward the gate to the backyard.

"Hi, Phil," I call as soon as I round the corner of the house and see him standing over the grill.

We walk closer and I drop Edward's hand as Phil leans over to give me a one-armed hug. "Your mom just went inside to get some cheese for the burgers."

"Smells great," Edward speaks up, watching as Phil flips the burger patties. Edward is such an awful cook that he doesn't even own a grill.

I look up at my boyfriend with a smile as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, just as Mom steps out of the house.

"Happy birthday!" she cries, before handing Phil the package of American cheese. She pulls me away from Edward, hugging me tightly. "Oh Baby Girl, I can't believe you're 27! I'm too young to have a daughter that old."

"Hey, at least I'm not 30 like Edward," I snicker, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Edward's birthday back in June was a great time — we went to a drag club. I idly wonder if we'll still go to gay bars together now.

"Good to see you again, Renee," Edward says as he tries to dodge my elbow.

"Did you have fun last night for your birthday?" Mom asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "We went to dinner and a movie with Angela and Ben. It was the first time I've seen her since the wedding."

"Did you want to come help me finish the side dishes?" Mom asks. "Edward can set the table maybe." I can't help laughing; Edward's lack of ability in the kitchen is legendary.

The three of us traipse inside, and Mom hands me a bag of pre-chopped lettuce so I can make a salad. I notice what looks like a birthday cake under a round glass lid on top of the counter.

"That's for later," Mom giggles, batting my hand away, and I reluctantly leave the cake alone.

"You look happy," she notes as soon as Edward has stepped outside with the plates and utensils.

"I am happy."

"Hmmm…" I know now would be the perfect time to say something, but I'm chicken shit with the possibility of disapproval standing right in front of me. Later, I promise myself.

Edward comes back inside to grab four cans of Diet Pepsi out of the fridge, winking at me when Mom's back is turned. When she's finished up her potato salad, we carry the bowls outside. Edward is already sitting at the patio table, underneath the umbrella. I smile at him as Mom and I set our bowls down on the table.

"Afraid of a little sun?" I tease him, taking a seat next to him while Mom goes to see what her husband is doing.

"No," he replies grumpily. "Phil wouldn't even trust me to help him get the buns out of bag."

I laugh at his pouty face, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips. Almost the moment my lips touch his, I stiffen a little bit, realizing I completely forgot about Mom and Phil. I refuse to look in their direction to see if they saw me kiss Edward.

I swallow thickly, reminding myself that this is no big deal, then plaster a smile on my face. "Maybe I'll let you cut the birthday cake later… or at least add the candles."

"Deal," he smiles, his left hand moving to rub my bare thigh where my dress has ridden up. "I love your soft legs," he whispers.

"All right, here they are," Phil announces as he sets a plate filled with four cheeseburgers in the center of the table.

"Birthday girl first," Edward suggests, and I hurriedly reach over to take the one with the most gooey cheese dripping out of it. I spoon myself some of each salad, then reach for the plate with burger fixings for a slice of tomato and some chopped onion.

"How was Fort Lauderdale last weekend?" Phil asks just as I take a huge bite out of my burger. I hold up a finger, trying to chew quickly.

"It was great," Edward answers for me. "I attended a number of interesting lectures and Bella got some quality time on the beach."

"You do look tan," Mom observes. I scoff… it's impossible to tan with SPF 50 sunscreen. I may be slightly flushed though. "Did you buy that dress last weekend?"

"I did — without Edward's help, even," I add. I was so freaking proud of myself. I look over at Edward just as he sticks his tongue out at me.

As we eat, Phil mostly monopolizes the conversation, telling us stories of the up-and-coming talent in this year's freshman class at UNF. He has retired from playing minor league baseball and is now coaching baseball at my old school, though the new season is months away.

Edward of course finishes eating before me, and he rests his hand back on my thigh, idly tracing patterns with his fingers. When I finish, I take his hand in mine, squeezing it softly. I see a look pass between my parents and I know they've noticed. I mean, we've always been affectionate with each other, but not to the point of holding hands.

"Do you want to help me get fresh plates and everything for the birthday cake, Edward?" Phil asks. "And I could really go for a beer."

"Sure," he agrees, standing up.

"So," my mom asks, one eyebrow raised, as soon as they've disappeared inside the house.

I pick up my can of pop to take a sip, pretending I don't know what she's getting at. I'm such a wuss.

"Bella," Mom prompts. "Is there something you need to tell me?" _Suck it up, Bella._

"Edward and I are together," I reply nonchalantly as I set down my now empty can.

"Together as in… a romantic couple?"

"Yes."

"How long has this been going on?" she asks.

Why do I feel like I'm on the witness stand being cross-examined? "Since last weekend," I reply.

"I don't mean this to be rude," Mom begins with a nervous chuckle, "But isn't Edward gay? He's sat in this very backyard holding hands with men that he's dated."

I take a deep breath. "Edward is actually bisexual, Mom. He's been involved with both men and women before, though he hasn't dated women in… a while. But he's told me he loves me, and I love him, too."

"Oh, I know you do, sweetheart," she smiles. "And I always suspected that his feelings for you ran deeper than you'd thought.

"There's just something about the way you two are together, the way you seem to almost orbit around each other. You've denied that there was anything going on the handful of times I asked, but I've been waiting for something like this."

I look up at my mother in shock. "So… you're ok with this?"

"You're happy?" I nod. "And he treats you right?"

"He does… Edward is the best boyfriend," I reply with a huge smile.

"Then of course I'm ok with it, Baby Girl. All I want is for you to be happy, and you haven't been since that Tyler creep broke your heart."

I laugh, reaching across the table to take Mom's hands. "Thanks, Mom."

"What do you think is taking the guys so long?" she asks. "I thought Phil was just going to bring the cake outside so we could put the candles on it."

And suddenly I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach — what if my boyfriend is currently undergoing the same grilling that I just did? Or worse? "We should check on them," I reply shakily as I stand up. Mom follows close behind.

Inside, we find the two men standing tensely several feet apart. Phil's arms are crossed in front of his chest, while Edward's head is bent forward as he grasps his forehead with one hand.

"What's going on?" I ask. Both men immediately turn to stare at me. I walk up to Edward, putting my arm around his back and rubbing it in comfort.

"It's fine, Bella. Phil is just acting like any concerned father," Edward says quietly.

"Phil?" I turn toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't understand how he can be gay for years and then suddenly decide he's not," Phil says, teeth clenched.

"I explained this already," Edward replies, sounding frustrated. "I'm bisexual; I'm attracted to both men and women."

"Then why have I never seen you with a woman before?"

"It wasn't a conscious decision to only date men since I moved to Jacksonville. I've dated women in the past and I'm just as capable of having feelings for a woman as I am for a man," he explains.

"Bella had her heart broken barely six months ago," Phil sneers. "I don't want to see that happen again when you decide you can't live without a man in your bed."

"Just because I'm bi doesn't mean I'm any more likely to cheat than any other man. Don't you think I've thought this through already? I watched Bella go through hell too, and I would never want to do that to her. I've loved her for years as my best friend, before it became more. And before I ever allowed anything to happen between us, I made absolutely certain that she is what I want."

I can't deny that Edward's words touch me. I turn to face him, placing a kiss directly over his heart.

"Look, Edward," Phil sighs, "It's nothing personal. I like you, you know I do. But I love Bella like my own daughter, which means it's my job to protect her."

"I love you too, Phil, but I'm a grown woman," I speak up. "I know what I'm doing. I love Edward."

"She doesn't need protection from me," Edward insists. "I'm not going to hurt her." He looks down at me then, brushing my hair back behind my ear. "You believe that, don't you?"

In response, I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I believe you," I whisper in his ear. I know he could never cheat. Pulling back, I kiss him hard before deciding I don't want to make out with my boyfriend in front of my parents.

"As long as you keep making Bella happy, we're good," Phil says, sticking his hand out. Edward shakes it firmly then hugs me to him again.

"Good, now that that's settled — I'm hungry for cake," Mom says. Phil offers to carry the cake outside for her while Mom grabs everything else.

We head back outside, setting everything down on the patio table. Mom pulls out a small box and opens it to reveal 13 tiny candles that will spell out HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

"Those are cute," I tell her as she begins sticking them into the cake.

"Well, I thought 27 candles might be a bit of a fire hazard," Mom chuckles.

"Hey!"

I elbow Edward when he laughs. "Watch it — you're older than me."

"Ok, let's all sing _Happy Birthday_," Mom shouts.

Once they've finished the song, Mom tells me to make a wish before blowing out the candles. But for maybe the first time ever, I have nothing special to wish for besides a long, healthy life. I've already got everything else I could possibly want.

I take a deep breath, then make my best attempt to blow out all of the candles. Of course I fail, so I inhale again then finally get them all blown out. Mom quickly removes the candles before they drip wax onto the cake.

Picking up a large knife, she makes one slice into the cake. "Hey, I thought I got to cut the cake," Edward pouts.

"Sorry," I tell him, patting his arm. "Oh yum," I exclaim as Mom lifts the first piece onto a plate and hands it to me. The dark red color gives it away immediately as red velvet cake.

"I hope this turned out ok," she begins. "I got the recipe for the cake and cream cheese frosting off the internet. I know red velvet cake is your favorite."

"I'm sure it'll be great," I assure her. And it is… yum! I may need a second piece.

I scrape the last of the frosting off my plate, moaning as I lick the fork clean. This is even better than the cake at Angela's wedding.

"Do you _have_ to do that?" Edward sighs. I glance over at him and he has a similarly glazed look to the one on his face when I ate cake at the wedding.

"What?" I ask in confusion. "What am I doing?"

He widens his eyes, staring at me as if he's trying to get me to read his mind. Unfortunately, I don't have that power. "What, Edward?"

He leans over toward me, whispering in my ear, "Licking that freakin' lucky fork."

I stare over at him as he moves away, then look down at the bulge in his khakis. "Ohhhhh!"

Mom giggles, shaking her head, while Phil turns bright red. I understand now why Edward didn't want to say it out loud.

And I gotta admit… I really, really like the fact that he's excited by my tongue.

* * *

It's hours later before my parents finally let us leave. As the night went on and we all had a couple beers, Edward got a little more handsy with me — not that I was complaining.

He follows me into the house, spinning me around and pinning me to the door while he kisses the living shit out of me. Have I mentioned that Edward is a great kisser?

I can feel his erection against my thigh and rub myself against it like a house cat. "Edward," I moan when he moves on to my jaw. "Let me just get ready for bed and I'll join you."

"You take too long," he mumbles against my neck.

"I'll be quick," I promise, and he lets me go.

In my room, I strip out of my dress, tossing it haphazardly onto my lonely bed. I leave on just my panties — couldn't wear a bra with this sundress — then step into the bathroom for my nightly routine. I'm finished in less than five minutes. I think about grabbing a t-shirt, but it's just going to end up on the floor.

When I step into Edward's bedroom, only the bedside lamp is on and he's stretched out on his king-sized bed in just his tight little boxer briefs. God, I love those. I also love the outline of his fucking perfect cock.

"Come here," he beckons me with his fingers and I realize I'd stopped to stare. I kneel at the foot of the bed, then crawl over my boyfriend's prone body, leaning down to kiss him.

I'm startled when Edward rolls us over, kissing me deeply while one hand runs up and down my torso. Suddenly he grabs my hands in his, lifting them up above my head. "Hold on."

I grab onto the wooden slats of the headboard while he slides down my body, leaning over to lick my left nipple before sucking it lightly into his mouth.

Definitely a boob man.

When he's finally through entertaining himself with my breasts, he slides farther down, taking my panties with him. Starting at my feet, he runs his hands slowly up my legs. "So soft," he murmurs. "I kinda like that you don't have hairy legs."

"Would you shave your legs for me?" I ask cheekily.

"No," he giggles. "Only male swimmers do that."

I almost want to start moaning in anticipation as his hands move north of my knees, gently parting my thighs as they move closer and closer to where I want them. Looking me in the eye, he leans over, placing a soft kiss on my right thigh, just above the knee. Still moving slowly, he begins licking and sucking his way up my inner thigh.

And… then he stops and moves to my other leg. Dammit. "Edward," I complain.

"Patience."

This time when he reaches the apex of my thighs, I take a deep breath… waiting… wanting. His hands that have been holding on to my hips for the last few minutes gradually move inward, until he's parting my lower lips.

"Where do you want my mouth, Bella?" he asks in the fucking sexiest tone of voice I've ever heard.

"Everywhere," I moan.

"Maybe I should make you wait a little longer as payback for that move with the fork earlier."

I remove one hand from the headboard, reaching down to grasp his hair and pull it. "Ow!"

"That's what I think of that plan."

"All right, all right," he laughs. He places one soft kiss right on my clit, then looks up at me, green eyes burning into mine. And then his tongue peeks out, taking tiny little licks… ok, I can see how what I did to the fork could be considered teasing.

Just as I'm about to pull his hair again, he takes a long lick all along my slit, using much more pressure than he had been. Finally, his entire mouth covers me as he begins sucking, licking… loving me.

Edward's arms wrap around my hips and he begins stroking his hands up and down my stomach. "Feels so good," I moan, trying to encourage him. He's gotten frighteningly good at this in less than a week. I swear, there's nothing he can't do.

Well, besides cooking. If he could do that too, the government would be trying to clone him.

As I feel my orgasm near, I reach down to his hair again, shoving his face in deeper. He responds by kicking up his efforts a notch.

"Oh God," I scream as I come so hard I see stars. Edward gently brings me down from my high before licking his lips, then kissing his way up my torso until he's looking me in the eye.

"Was that good?" he asks.

I start to chuckle, thinking he _must_ be joking, but then realize he's still a little unsure of his "abilities" and is truly looking for an answer.

Finally letting go of the headboard, I reach down and run my hands through his soft, thick hair. "It was amazing — trust me. Which… um, which do you prefer?"

"Which what?"

"Do you prefer going down on women or men?" I ask hesitantly.

He shrugs. "You taste better."

"Really?" I laugh. "That's your final answer?"

"I don't know, Bella," he sighs. "Women are a lot more… complicated. You can do pretty much anything and get a man off, even if you have no skills. I feel more accomplished when I can make you come. And you really do taste better than semen."

He leans down and kisses me so that I see for myself, I guess. Hmm… I dunno, jizz doesn't taste very good, but I'm not really into this, either.

Smiling, he gathers both of my hands in one of his and lifts them above my head again. And then grasping his cock, he places it at my entrance, sliding in easily thanks to the aftereffects of my orgasm.

Once he's fully sheathed inside me, he brings his right hand up to hold on to mine, then slowly pulls out and pushes in again. Edward stares into my eyes as he slowly makes love to me.

"I'd never hurt you, Bella," he whispers. "I hope you know that."

"I do," I assure him. "I do."

He kisses me then, trying to show me his love as he picks up the pace. And I believe him. I believe _in_ him.

In no time at all, I'm falling over the edge again. With a long groan, Edward follows right behind me. When his hips finally still, he lets go of my hands, wrapping his arms around me and rolling us to our sides. I bury my face in his chest, just breathing in his scent.

"I love you," I whisper.

He squeezes me tighter, then kisses the top of my head. "I love you too. Nothing is going to change that."

I feel the loss the moment he slips out of me, kissing my lips before climbing out of bed. Moments later, he's back with a wet washcloth to clean us both up. He turns out the light then helps me crawl under the covers.

I move willingly into his arms. Falling asleep with Edward wrapped around me is the best feeling ever.

* * *

**A/N:** So, did Bella's parents react the way you thought they would? Is Phil right to be concerned?


	6. Reality Bites

**Author Note:** Thanks for the awesome response to the last chapter! I love hearing from all of you.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 6 — Reality Bites_

_October 2013_

Over the next few weeks, whenever Edward is at work and I'm not, I concentrate on finishing up the final editing of my second novel, getting it ready to send out to agents and publishers. This time I want Edward to read it first, so that he can tell me if it sucks and I'm just wasting my time. I trust him to be honest with me, always.

We spend pretty much all of our combined free time together and I feel like we're definitely still in the "honeymoon period." I want to say that it's all new and different now that we're in a relationship, but I realize that we've pretty much been acting like a couple for the past several months. The only real difference is that we now spend a lot of our time kissing and sleep in the same bed every night. Oh, and also spend a lot of time naked. I mean, have you _seen_ my boyfriend?

We still haven't been out to any bars or clubs together, as a couple, but then neither of us is looking to meet anyone new. I'm sure we'll go out at some point.

The transition from friends to lovers has definitely been easier for me. Beyond Angela, Ben and my parents, there was no one else whose reaction I needed to worry about. I haven't worked at the seafood restaurant all that long, and my coworkers just know Edward as the man I live with. They probably already assumed something was going on between us.

I talk to my dad on the phone every couple of weeks, but he's never met Edward. I've only ever told Dad that he's a good friend, always leaving out the fact that Edward was gay, so he took it in stride when I told him that we were now dating. Of course, Edward's family have already thought we were dating since I accompanied him to his brother's wedding, so he didn't even need to say anything to them.

But his gay friends are another story. I think he's avoided them since coming back from Fort Lauderdale, until his friend Jared's 30th birthday. He couldn't _not_ go out with the guys after they invited him last week.

I get home before Edward the night of the birthday outing and am curled up on the couch in my pajamas watching a movie when he arrives a little bit after 11pm. I can tell just from the way he slams the door to the garage that he's upset.

"Hey," he croaks when he steps into the living room and sees me sitting there.

"What's wrong?" I ask immediately. He looks exhausted.

Edward just shakes his head. "I'm gonna change; I'll be right back."

I sit on pins and needles waiting for him to return, then hurriedly make room for him when I hear his footsteps on the tile floor. Dressed in lounge pants and a t-shirt, he sits heavily beside me, leans his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. I wonder if I should ask him again what's wrong, but decide that he'll tell me when he's ready.

But I'm not just going to sit there. I reach my hand over and begin stroking lightly over his bare arm. As I trail my fingers down to his hand, he flips it over, taking my fingers in his and squeezing lightly.

"I think I've lost a few friends," he begins quietly. My heart hurts for him, hearing the pain in his voice.

"Because of me?" I whisper.

He shakes his head. "Because of me. They took it as badly as I'd feared — maybe even worse."

"Oh, Edward." I lean my head on his shoulder, trying to comfort him any way I can.

"They think I'm just confused, or that I'm a sell-out, basically. That I took the easy way out by denying who I really am and trying to be straight."

"I expected it," he continues tiredly. "I remember the things they've said over the years about guys who are bi. That's why I never told them. There's such prejudice against bisexuals from both the gay and straight communities."

"That's so silly… you can't help who you are." I squeeze his hand a little tighter.

"No, I really can't," he sighs. "I think all of my friends have seen younger guys, teenagers, who claim to be bisexual because they aren't ready to fully admit that they're gay. They think I've somehow regressed back to that now that I'm in my 30s," he scoffs. "And the fact that I was always in the closet at work doesn't help."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, kissing along his amazing jaw.

"What I feel for you is so much more than just sexual attraction. I wish they could see that. I'm not sure I really fit in anywhere," he adds quietly.

"You fit with me, Edward," I tell him forcefully. I crawl over onto his lap, straddling him and running my hands through his hair until he opens his eyes. "I love you."

Edward wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly to his warm body. "It's worth it," he whispers. "I'll take whatever crap anyone wants to throw at me as long as I have you."

And… I'm a pile of goo on the floor. The man should write greeting cards for a living.

I pull back just far enough that I can look him in the eye. "You have me, Edward. Always." I take his lips in mine, trying to pour every ounce of love I have for him into my kiss. When I feel him harden beneath me, I grasp the bottom hem of his t-shirt and begin pushing up. I reluctantly pull my mouth off of his so that I can remove his shirt, then begin stroking my hands over his defined chest.

"Your body is absolutely perfect," I blurt out. _Fuck, that's embarrassing._ But when he smiles, I no longer care. "I don't know how I kept my hands off of you for so long."

"You touched me once when you were drunk."

"I did not," I gasp.

He giggles. "Maybe I'm lying; maybe I'm not."

There's a part of me that wants to torture him a bit for that, but I'm so happy that his mood has improved that I don't even care if he's teasing me. I slowly climb off his lap, then kneel on the hard floor — maybe this wasn't the brightest idea — and grasp the top of his lounge pants.

Guessing my intention, Edward lifts his hips up a bit and I pull the fabric down, surprised to see that he's not wearing any underwear. "Commando?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He didn't go out like that… did he?

He shrugs, staring down at me.

I take his hard cock in my hand, pumping it slowly. "Your cock is perfect, too, by the way. The first time I saw it, I thought it was pretty."

"Pretty?! My dick is not pretty."

"Yes, it is," I insist. "It's long, but not porn-star huge." Because that would fucking _hurt_. "And I like that you manscape," I add with a shrug. As long as I'm being honest and all.

"Do you know what I like?" he asks in a rough voice.

"What?" I ask with a smile. I think I know where this is going.

"Your mouth around my cock," he replies with a wink.

"Do you?" I ask cautiously. I've been too shy to ask if my blowjob skills are acceptable, though he's never once complained.

Edward leans forward until he can brush his fingers through my hair. "I do," he promises. Very gently, he cups the back of my head, bringing my head forward until his cock is within reach.

I place just the tip in my mouth, swirling my tongue all around it, before trying to take in as much of his length as I can.

"Beautiful," he whispers. "I dreamt about this the night of Angela's wedding."

I pull my mouth off with a pop. "You dreamt of me giving you a blowjob?"

"Yep," he replies. "The things you do to forks are obscene."

I giggle, then begin licking up and down his cock, pretending it tastes like cream cheese frosting. It doesn't, of course, but it doesn't taste _bad_. How could it? It's Edward's.

"Fuck, Bella," he moans when I take him into my mouth again, loving him with my tongue. He's still holding the back of my head, and begins thrusting lightly into my mouth.

When I feel like this is going to be over a little too quickly, I pull my mouth off again then suck one of his balls into my mouth, loving when he hisses his pleasure. He never seems to hold back on letting me know that he likes something.

His whimpers get louder when I concentrate on his cock again, tonguing the slit and tracing all around the head. When he starts to pant, I know he's close. "Oh fuck, you're good at that," he groans.

Bolstered by his words, I suck harder and faster until I feel him tap me on the shoulder. I suck him deep into my mouth just in time for him to come down the back of my throat.

I swallow quickly then release his cock, staring up at him. I can't quite decipher the look on his face.

"Thank you," he whispers. "I love you so much. No one's disapproval is ever going to change that."

I stand up on shaky legs, pulling Edward up by the hand. "I love you too," I tell him. "Now let's go to bed."

* * *

With some rearrangement of my work schedule, I manage to get the Friday after the birthday party fiasco off so that Edward and I can do something together. I'm still trying to take his mind off of what happened, so I hope we can go out and enjoy something fun.

After dinner at our favorite pizza place, I suggest a night out at one of the many bars or clubs in this college town.

"Gay bar or straight bar?" I ask when Edward agrees.

"Straight bar," he replies immediately. "Not that we can't ever go to a gay bar again, but right now I don't want to take the chance of running into anyone I know."

"Sounds like a plan."

Edward pulls out his iPhone to check if any bands are playing, and we decide to go see a local band at Freebird Live, in Jacksonville Beach. It's within walking distance of Edward's house, so we return home to park the Corvette in the garage, then set off for the venue on foot.

Twenty minutes later, Edward pays our cover at the door and we walk straight up to the bar for drinks. I order my favorite vodka and cranberry juice while Edward just gets a beer. He's _such_ a guy sometimes.

"Upstairs or downstairs?" he asks as he leaves a tip for the bartender.

"Upstairs."

The club is standing-room only, so we choose spots along the railing upstairs, looking down at the stage and the crowd below. The band comes on a few minutes later, and while I'm not familiar with them, I like what I hear.

It's not the first time I've seen a show here with Edward. But it is the first time he's stood behind me, arms wrapped around my waist and nuzzling my neck. _God, I love the smell of his cologne._

"Thanks," he chuckles. Fuck, did I say that out loud?

When the band takes a half-hour break, Edward goes to grab us fresh drinks while I hold our very desirable spots.

"Sorry I took so long," he apologizes, handing me a glass when he finally returns. "I must give off straight vibes now or something." He shakes his head.

"What?" I laugh.

"I had three different women trying to come on to me when I was waiting for our drinks."

"Were any of them hot?" I ask with a grin, trying to keep the jealousy at bay. _He's mine, girls._ Still, I've seen women all over Edward when we've gone out before; this is nothing new.

"No," he pouts. "Not that I was looking anyway," he adds, before leaning down to kiss me.

And suddenly I'm curious. "Do you see any women down there that you _do_ find attractive?"

Edward gives me a strange look, but he peers over the railing, studying the crowd. "A couple," he shrugs.

"Which ones?" Now I really am curious.

He points toward a blonde dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and a Hispanic woman in a black dress. "You don't have much of a type," I laugh. "A blonde and a brunette?"

"Hair color isn't important," he scoffs.

"So what is it about those two?"

He shrugs, taking a long drink of his beer. "I guess I don't like women who seem fake. The blonde's hair looks natural, and neither one of them looks to have visited a plastic surgeon for 'enhancements.' They aren't trying too hard."

I look down at my own top and blingy jeans, wondering if _I'm_ trying too hard. "You look beautiful, Bella," he says, bending his knees so that he can look me in the eye. "I don't let you buy anything that crosses over the line into trying too hard."

He winks at me and I smile up at him, pulling him closer.

"What about you?" he asks, nodding toward the lower level. "Anyone catch your eye?"

"I already have the hottest guy here." And that's no exaggeration.

Edward rolls his eyes. "Come on, I played along."

Sighing, I look down at the crowd. Given that we're at the beach, most of the guys give off a surfer dude vibe, with blond-tipped spiky hair. Not my type at all.

I eventually point out a couple of guys to Edward, though they're not nearly as hot as he is. I can tell by the look on his face that he disagrees with my assessment.

"Not your type?" I joke.

"No," he shakes his head. "Too… rugged looking, I don't know."

"Ok, smart ass, which guys would _you_ not kick out of bed?"

"These are straight guys, Bella."

"Well… pretend they're not," I shrug. It was a hypothetical question anyway.

Edward studies the crowd again, then looks over at me. "You really want to hear this?" I nod. "All right, maybe that group standing along the wall over there."

I look in the direction he's pointing. "Which one?"

"All of them," he shrugs.

"There's at least six or seven of them." And they all look like wanna-be surfers. Too fucking scrawny for me.

"Yeah."

"You only found two women in the entire place, yet identified half a dozen guys all standing together?"

He sighs again, takes a long drink and shakes his head. "I didn't think you really wanted to hear it," he mutters. "I told you I'm more attracted to men than women."

I'm not really sure what to say in response to that, and the band's return ends our conversation anyway. When Edward has finished his beer, he goes back to holding me close, but I'm still a little weirded out by our conversation.

Does the fact that he finds _me_ attractive mean that I somehow remind him of men… that I'm masculine? I mean, I don't think I am; I'm thin, though not especially curvy. Edward says he likes that I'm soft. And he definitely likes my boobs. I'm sure I'm just being stupid.

"Come on," he says when he notices my drink is empty. He takes my hand, leading me down the stairs and toward the door.

"There's no re-entry," I call to him.

"I know."

Outside the night air is getting cooler and I shiver a little. We're only a block or so from the ocean. Edward takes my hand, leading me toward the beach. Instead of taking one of the walkways down to the sand, we turn onto the boardwalk in the direction of his house, still hand in hand.

"You're upset," he says quietly.

"I… no."

"I swear to you, Bella. Yes, I will always find more men than women that I'm attracted to in a roomful of people, but you're the one I love. You're the only one I want."

I stop walking, as does Edward, who turns around to look at me. "I know, Edward. It's not like you haven't told me that before. It's just… seeing the evidence shook me up a bit." I can't help it; I'm human.

"And the guys you pointed out," I continue. "Really? Those guys were so… metrosexual?"

He laughs. "In the gay vernacular, the word you're looking for is 'twinks.' I think every guy I've ever dated fits that description."

"They seemed kinda feminine," I reply, wrinkling my nose. So maybe he _doesn't_ think I'm masculine, if he doesn't even like that in men.

"I didn't say it made any sense. I'm more attracted to men, but the men I'm attracted to run more toward the feminine side."

"No bears for you?" I joke. Hey, I know some of the 'gay vernacular,' as he put it.

"God, no," he shudders. "I was never into big beefy, hairy guys. I don't know how anyone — male or female — could be attracted to a guy with hair all over his body."

And somehow, that makes me feel better, and I give him a small smile.

And then I take a deep breath. As long as we're having this discussion, there's something that has nagged at the back of my mind for the last couple of months, but I haven't wanted to actually rock the boat and ask.

"Edward?" I begin quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," he replies, his brow furrowed. "Should we sit down for this?" I nod and he leads me to the nearest bench. Once we've sat down, he reaches up, brushing my windblown hair back behind my ear. "What is it, Bella?"

I take another deep breath, then stare down at my feet. "How come… how come you never told me that you're bisexual? Why did I know you for almost four years before I found out you've dated women before?"

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "The second one is easy," he begins. "Telling you — or anyone — that I've dated women would lead to questions, to things I don't like talking about."

"What kind of questions?" I ask, brow furrowed.

"Like what happened with them. I'm not exactly eager to tell my friends that I got three 'no' votes on my sexual prowess."

"That really bothers you," I realize.

Edward looks at me sharply. "Bella, I'm a guy. I have an ego, I can't help that. Pretty much the worst thing you can tell a guy is that he's bad in bed. Or that his dick is small," he adds.

"But you're not bad! Those girls were nuts to think so — trust me."

He shrugs. "Maybe it _was_ true back then. In any case, it's not something I willingly shout from the rooftops. No, those weren't the only girls I was with, but… the others were much more one-night stands than real relationships. And I'm not exactly… proud of that. It doesn't reflect who I am, so it's not something that I discuss freely."

"Okay," I reply slowly. "I get it. I mean, I don't tell my friends every detail of my sex life either. But why didn't you ever tell me that you're bi?"

He stands up, grabbing at his hair as he paces back and forth in front of the bench. Finally, he stops in front of me. "Do you remember that first football game we went to together?"

"Sure I do," I nod. "Your hometown Bears were in town."

"Right. Do you remember commenting on some of the players as they ran off the field at the end of the first half? Pointing out which ones looked good in their tight pants?"

I feel myself flush. "I do remember. And you agreed with me."

"Yeah, I did. I also thought a couple of the cheerleaders who took the field right after that were hot."

"But you didn't say anything!" I'm not following where he's going with this at all, I have to admit.

"No, I didn't," he agrees. "There was a group of us who hung out a lot in med school whenever we got a break — men and women both. And I learned pretty quickly that the women really didn't like it when the guys discussed women we found attractive in front of them.

"I barely knew you then, Bella. Based on my past experience, you wouldn't have liked it if I commented on the cheerleaders, so I didn't," he shrugs.

"But that was four years ago," I point out.

"It was," he agrees softly, sitting down beside me and taking my hands in his. "I didn't… deliberately keep it from you. I would've mentioned it if I'd thought it was at all relevant. I wasn't dating women then, though I was always open to it. If I had, I certainly would've introduced them to you and explained that I'm actually attracted to both men and women. But that never happened."

"And I guess," he continues, "I just got used to keeping quiet about it. I didn't tell my gay friends precisely because I was afraid of what happened this week. I just don't feel that anyone owes the rest of the world an explanation of their sexuality."

"I wasn't just anyone, Edward," I reply quietly. And I can't help that I'm a little bit hurt that he didn't feel he could confide in me.

He brushes my hair back again, leaning forward to kiss my forehead, then my cheek, then my lips. "No, you weren't. I'm sorry."

"Did you ever… I mean, when we met… did you find me attractive?" I ask in a small voice.

He smiles tenderly. "Of course I did."

"But you didn't do anything about it," I pout.

"I was dating Alec when we met. Just before he and I split up, you started talking about this cute guy in your apartment complex, and how you were hoping to bump into him while doing your laundry."

I can't help laughing. God, I was pathetic.

"Maybe… maybe if you hadn't had your eye on someone else, I would've tried asking you out once I was single. But you did, and so I didn't," he shrugs. "And then as our friendship deepened, so did my fear of losing it, losing _you_ if we tried dating and it didn't work out. You'd never given any indication that you were interested in me, so I just sort of shoved it to the back of my mind."

"I was interested, Edward. From the very first time I saw you. God, I had the biggest crush on you, and I planned to finally just ask you out myself… and then you walked into the diner with Alec, crushing all of my hopes and dreams," I chuckle.

"Sorry," he laughs. He tenderly grasps my face, pulling me closer so that he can kiss me. "Don't take this the wrong way, because I know that everything that happened with Tyler sucked, but… I think this is maybe the way it was supposed to happen for us. I've had several relationships since I met you, and in every single one, I just felt like something was… off. I could never really explain what it was that I was feeling."

"You broke a lot of hearts," I note.

"Not on purpose," he pouts. "It took living with you, being around you all the time, to realize just how much I need you in my life, Bella. Only you. I no longer have this nagging feeling that something isn't right. You are the one meant for me."

By the time he's finished his speech, tears are streaming down my face. For four long years, I've longed to hear these words from him.

Edward brushes my tears away, kissing me softly, then stands up, holding his hand out to me. I jump up and he hugs me tightly. "Let's go home," he whispers.

* * *

**A/N:** What did you think of the way Edward's gay friends reacted? How about their later conversation? I know a couple of people who reviewed the one-shot didn't think it was plausible for Bella to not know that he's bi.


	7. The Joy Of Sex

**Author Note:** Thanks for the reviews last chapter! Seems you guys are not happy with Edward's so-called friends.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 7 — The Joy Of Sex_

_November 2013_

I finally finish editing my novel and coerce Edward into reading it the first weekend in November when the weather outside is rainy and nasty. He locks himself in his bedroom to read so that I can't distract him by staring at him, trying to figure out if he likes it from his facial expressions. Instead, I busy myself in the kitchen, preparing an elaborate dinner for him as part of my coercion.

"Oh my God, Bella," he yells as he steps into the kitchen, startling me.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

"You didn't tell me you write… smut," he finishes in a whisper.

"It's an erotic thriller," I protest with a laugh.

"But there are sex scenes!"

"Yeah… do you know what kind of books topped last year's New York Times Bestseller list?" Edward shakes his head and I crack up laughing. "Who knew you were such a prude."

"I'm _not_ a prude, though it's a little bit weird to read about my girlfriend's sexual fantasies. Or…" He suddenly gets a horrified look on his face. "You don't… write about anything we do together in your books, do you?"

"No." I roll my eyes. I'd finished the first draft before he and I got together… though he doesn't have to know that.

In any case, he says he likes the book outside of his embarrassment reading the sex scenes, and so I mail it off to several publishing houses and agents, trying not to get my hopes up.

* * *

While Edward is working a Saturday shift at the hospital a week later, Angela and I have a chance to catch up over lunch. I feel like I've barely seen her since she got married and I got a boyfriend.

I giggle to myself — I have an amazing, gorgeous _boyfriend_.

"So Ben and I are going on a three-day cruise to the Bahamas for my birthday," Angela says just after we place our orders.

"Didn't you just take a honeymoon three months ago?" I laugh.

"So what? You can never spend too much time having fun. Anyway, we went to Italy for our honeymoon, so this is totally different."

"When are you leaving?"

"Day after Thanksgiving, taking advantage of the long weekend," she replies. "What about you? When is Edward planning to take you on a vacation?"

"His parents invited us to come up to Chicago for Christmas, if that counts."

"Oooh… meet the parents. Are you gonna go?" she asks.

"Yeah, I think Edward wants to. He hasn't spent a holiday with his parents since he moved to Jacksonville. It wouldn't _really_ be meeting the parents for me though. I met them when I went to Emmett's wedding with Edward last year."

"Oh yeah, when you were his beard," she chuckles.

"Right," I chuckle along with her. "So they already think we've been dating for over a year."

"That's cool though — less pressure on you now."

"Yeah," I agree, "The only thing that sucks is that they're very religious and don't believe in premarital sex. That was fine last year when they put us in separate bedrooms, but now that we're actually sleeping together…"

"Yeah, so about that," Angela grins, waggling her eyebrows. "Even I can admit that Edward is fucking hot with a seriously drool-worthy body. But you've gotta tell me how he is in the bedroom. I bet he's a real tiger. Rowwwrrr…"

"Angela!" I start laughing hysterically, then try desperately to control myself when our waitress stops by to drop off our sandwiches.

I thank her, picking up my sandwich and taking a bite.

"So…" Angela prompts. "You've got to give me at least some deets."

"He's… he's amazing Angela, really," I smile after I've swallowed. "He's so sweet and tender and loving. I feel like he worships me when we make love. Oh, and he's a boob man," I add with a laugh.

"Awww… that's so sweet I think I might puke."

I roll my eyes at my friend's dramatics. "It's the truth!"

"But what about when you two get down and dirty?" she persists. "Is he all sexy and dominating? Ugh, I bet he uses that stern doctor's voice. I think I'd just die."

"Angela!" Ugh, I feel like I'm as red as a tomato. This isn't the type of thing I like to gossip about in any case, but, God… she's unknowingly hitting right at the only thing in my new life that _isn't_ perfect. That little fear that nags at me on those rare nights when I'm sleeping alone, when the warmth of Edward's body next to me isn't there to keep the boogieman away.

"What is it, Bella?" Angela asks, sounding alarmed. "You've stopped eating and you've got the strangest look on your face."

I shake my head. Saying it out loud will make my fears more tangible.

"Bella?!"

"Edward and I," I whisper, "Make love regularly, and it's amazing, it really is. He never leaves me unsatisfied."

"Okay…"

"But we never just… have sex," I shrug. "It's never raw and rough and passionate. Just tender and beautiful. I'm not complaining, really, I'm not."

"But…?" Angela prompts.

"But what if Edward doesn't want me that way?" I whisper, not able to look her in the eye. "I know he loves me, but what if he's just not… hot for me?"

I find the courage to face Angela, and she gives me a sympathetic look. "Have you talked to Edward about this?" she asks gently. I shake my head. "I think you should if it bothers you. Nothing is going to change if you don't say something."

"It's not that easy, Ang. Edward is very sensitive about his… abilities in bed. I could really upset him."

"Ok, then you need to tread carefully, but you do need to talk to him about it."

I know she's right. Deep inside, I know it. But what if my fears are realized and he admits that he'll never be as sexually attracted to me as he is to men? What if my soft skin and my boobs aren't enough?

I take a deep breath, then nod. Somehow, I'll find the strength to talk to Edward.

* * *

After lunch with Angela I have to work a shift at the restaurant. I'm distracted all evening, wondering how I can bring up the subject with Edward without really hurting his feelings. By the time I'm driving home, I still have no idea.

Inside, I find Edward in the living room, watching a hockey game on TV.

"Hey," he calls, his face lighting up when he sees me.

"Be right there," I reply. I quickly change out of my work clothes and sit down beside him, cuddling into his side. I sit watching the game with my boyfriend, trying to figure out how to begin our conversation, but I've still got nothing.

"What's wrong, Bella?"

I lift my head, startled by the sound of Edward's voice. "Huh?" is my brilliant reply.

"You've been staring into space for 10 minutes," he replies, one finger lifting my chin so he can look me in the eye.

"Sorry," I whisper. _Fuck, it's now or never._ "There's… there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay…"

I stand up, pacing back and forth as I try to find the words. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Edward reach for the remote and turn off the TV.

"Bella," he calls sharply. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I… you…"

"Have I done something to upset you?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"No! No, Edward, you're perfect. You are the sweetest, best boyfriend any woman could ask for. But…" I trail off, still unable to say it.

"But what, Bella?"

"But sometimes I need… more."

"More what?"

I look into his beautiful green eyes, seeing the confusion and apprehension on his face. With a sigh, I retake my seat beside him, taking his hands in mine. I can't look him in the eye as I speak. "Please, please, please don't take this the—" Shit, if someone began a conversation with me like that, my mind would immediately go straight to my worst fear.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself to try again. "You're an amazing lover, truly. But sometimes… instead of sweet and gentle, I'd like… raw passion. I want to feel that you want me."

"Bella, I love you—"

"I know you love me, Edward. I know." I squeeze his hands as I finally look up at him. "But I need to know that you _want_ me."

"Bella, I get hard when I watch you lick a fork."

I can't control my giggle at that. "But when we got home from Mom and Phil's that night, we made love and you worshipped me. If you really… want me like that, why do you always hold back?"

He sighs, running his hand roughly through his hair. "Because I love you. I respect you too much to… to act like an animal — to only think of myself, to just take what I want from your body."

"I'm pretty sure if you tear my clothes off and take me against the wall, I'm going to get something out of it," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"So you really want the fantasy sex from your book?"

"I… well, yeah. When you hold back, it makes me feel like you aren't as sexually attracted to me as you are to men," I admit quietly.

"That isn't true, Bella," he says gently.

"Were you… passionate with your boyfriends?" I hold my breath waiting for his response.

"Bella…" he begins in a warning tone.

"Tell me the truth."

He leans his forehead on his hand, staring at the floor. And then he nods, and I feel like my heart is being squeezed in a vice.

"It's not what you're thinking," he says firmly, looking up at me. "It doesn't mean I wanted them more. It's just…" He shakes his head, standing up.

"Just what?" I whisper.

"I was raised to respect women!" he shouts. "Men are different. Men are sexual beings."

"And women aren't?" I scoff.

Edward looks down at me helplessly. "Clearly, I know fuck-all about women."

"That isn't even close to the truth," I growl as I stand up. "You've given me more orgasms in the last two months than I've had in my first 27 years." Sad, but true.

I step closer to Edward and hug him tightly, trying to reassure him. When I finally let him go, I take his hand and lead him back to the couch. "Lie down," I urge, pushing on his shoulders when he looks up at me in confusion. I climb on top of him, sitting just above his groin, then lean forward until I can touch his lips with mine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"For what?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"For being insecure. It's not just because of… _your_ past, I know a lot of it is also due to mine, and I'm sorry that it affects us. You really want me… sexually?" I ask quietly.

"Yes," he replies firmly.

"I know that you love me, so we don't have to make sweet love every time we're together. It's ok if we just fuck sometimes. Don't hold back with me. If you want to rip my clothes off, do it! Don't ever be afraid to take what you need from me, ok?"

Slowly, he brings his hands up, brushing them back and forth along my sides. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispers. "I don't want to be too rough. I'm a lot bigger and stronger than you are."

"I'm pretty sure it's impossible for you to ever be too rough with _anyone_. You're the kindest, gentlest man I know."

Edward smiles at me, then begins pushing up on my tank top. I lift my arms so he can pull it off. He brings his hands up, holding the weight of my bare breasts in his hands while he brushes his thumbs over my nipples, which harden instantly.

"You're such a boob man," I joke.

"I don't have any of my own to play with," he pouts.

I scoot back a little more until I can feel his hardness beneath me, then begin removing his t-shirt. Once he's bare chested, I brush my hands along his muscular chest and he hisses when I tease his nipples.

"Do you want me now?" I ask, grinding down on him.

"God, yes," he moans — music to my ears.

I hurriedly stand up so that I can tug my yoga pants down more easily. "Take your pants off," I direct, watching as he obeys. I climb back on top of him, rubbing my wetness all along his hard cock while I kiss him.

"Uh-uh," I scold him when I feel him trying to position me over his cock. "I'm in charge." I want to get him good and worked up so he forgets all about trying to be gentle. I take his hands in mine, lifting them up above his head as I continue to slide back and forth. Fuck, I could probably come just like this.

"You're a tease," he pants.

"No, that implies that I'm not going to follow through, and I absolutely intend to." And with that, I grab hold of his cock, position it at my entrance and slowly slide down until he's buried inside me.

"Shit," he groans. "You feel so fucking good, Bella. So warm and wet."

"Show me how much you want me, Edward," I beg him, putting my hands on his shoulders for leverage as I begin to move. Now that I'm no longer holding his hands, he grasps my hips, helping me move as he begins thrusting up into me.

And he's not being gentle. _Yes!_

"God, Edward…" I moan as he takes one of my breasts in his mouth. He shifts just slightly and suddenly he's hitting a very… very good spot inside me. Just… a… little… more.

"Oh fuck," I scream as my orgasm overtakes me. I've barely stopped shuddering when Edward suddenly lifts me off of his cock.

"Stand up," he grunts. My legs feel like Jell-O as I put them on the floor, holding on to the couch for support. He stands as well, pushing my legs forward until I've got one knee on the couch. I grasp the back with two hands just as he slams into me from behind.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," I chant as he fucks me, _really_ fucks me for the first time. Still holding on to my hips with one hand, his brings his right one up to squeeze and knead my breast.

"Not gonna… last," he pants in my ear.

I let go of my death grip on the back of the couch with one hand, bringing it down to rub circles over my clit. I _need_ to come again before he does. When Edward sees what I'm doing, he slides his hand down from my breast to help me out a little. "Mine," he growls.

The combined sensations of his hand and his cock have me falling over the edge again in no time. "Fuck, Edward," I scream as he keeps up his relentless pounding. Just as I feel like I might collapse, I feel him pulsing inside me as he finally comes with a loud grunt.

Completely spent, I rest my forehead on the back of the couch, trying to control my breathing. Edward slowly pulls out then wraps his arms around me.

"Shit, baby, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I manage to turn my head just enough so that I can capture his lips in mine. "You didn't hurt me," I promise him. "Wherever the hell that came from, I want it more often."

* * *

It's about 3pm on the day before Thanksgiving, and I'm at work. Once the lunch rush was over, the restaurant cleared out. I'm so bored, I'm cleaning the tables… for the second time.

"Bella?"

I look up when I hear my name and see Edward standing in the doorway. He's dressed in his work clothes, with his fuckhot white lab coat. But the look on his face… I've never seen it before.

I immediately stop what I'm doing and walk up to him. 'What is it?" I ask in alarm.

He just shakes his head. "Where can we be alone?" he asks quietly.

"Uhhh…" I wrack my brain trying to think. And then I get an idea. "Come on." I grab his hand, leading him toward the hallway that leads to the kitchen. Off the hallway is the door to our wine cellar. I open it then pull Edward inside. "Close the door behind you," I remind him.

We walk down the wooden steps into the cool cellar. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of bottles of wine are stacked in neat rows on wooden shelving, organized first by year and then by winery.

I stand at the bottom of the stairs until Edward tugs on my hand, leading me to a small, open patch of brick wall. He pushes me against it then kisses me, his tongue invading my mouth almost instantly. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything I have. He lifts one of my legs to wrap it around his hips, then grinds his cock into me. Fuck, he's hard as steel!

I feel his hand on my blouse, trying frantically to work the buttons, and hurriedly move to help him before he rips them off. Once it's open to the waist, he yanks the cup of my bra down and attaches his mouth to my nipple. I run my fingers through his soft hair, trying to hold in my moans, though I know it's pretty much soundproof down here.

I don't even realize Edward has moved on to my pants until I hear the zipper being opened. He pushes my pants and panties off my hips and I step out of them once they reach the ground. I couldn't care less right now that the floor is dusty.

Still fully dressed, he reaches for his belt and I help him out, pushing his work pants and boxer briefs to the floor. Lifting me up, he buries himself inside me. I cry out from surprise and he stares at me, unmoving. I tighten my legs around his hips to let him know I'm ok and he starts to move.

Leaving one hand behind me to keep me from banging my back into the hard brick wall, he fucks me relentlessly, alternating between dropping sweet kisses onto my collarbone and sucking on my neck. I'm pinned to the wall by his hips and loving… every… second of it.

I know something must've happened to cause this, but hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? I stroke my hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him in some way, to make it better… whatever _it_ is.

"Bella," he grunts, "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." I tug his hair until he lifts his head so that I can kiss him, trying to show him just how much I mean that.

My orgasm rushes through me faster than I had expected, and Edward moans as my walls clamp down on him. Just seconds later, he's coming inside me. When his hips still, he drops his forehead to my shoulder, hugging me tightly.

"Please tell me I didn't hurt you," he whispers.

"You didn't hurt me." I hiss a little as he pulls out, then slowly lowers my legs to the ground. I look down at the mess running down my inner thigh, wondering how in the hell I'm going to clean up.

Edward quickly pulls up his slacks, then notices my predicament. He picks up my panties, uses them to clean me off, them stuffs them into the pocket of his lab coat. I giggle, reaching for my pants. "Well, I guess I don't really need those."

"Not sorry," he smirks.

"What happened, Edward?" I ask, wrapping my arms around him.

"One of my patients died today," he whispers.

_Oh fuck._ "The little boy with cancer?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I'll tell you tonight, ok? I just… needed to feel alive right now."

"You don't have to explain," I assure him, kissing him softly. "It's really slow… do you need me to take off and come home with you? I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem."

"No," he replies quietly. "I'll be fine. I just want to be alone for a little while."

"Are you sure?" I look up at him skeptically. He doesn't _look_ fine.

"I'm sure," he nods, taking my hand. We walk up the stairs and I open the door, peeking out to make sure the coast is clear. I lead Edward to the front door, glad to see that no one is sitting in my section waiting for me. At least I'm not going to be fired for going on a break to fuck my boyfriend.

"I'll see you tonight, ok?"

He kisses me chastely, then backs away. "Thank you." _Anytime, Edward… anytime._

* * *

When I get home, the house is dark and classical music is playing softly. I find my boyfriend slumped on the couch, his head in his hands. An empty beer bottle sits on the coffee table nearby.

"Are you drunk?" I ask quietly.

"No," he replies. "I just had one beer."

I ease myself down beside him, rubbing my hand up and down his back. "Have you eaten dinner?" He shakes his head. "Will you let me make you something?"

"You don't have to do that, Bella."

"Of course I do! It's my job to take care of you." He looks up at me, gives me a soft smile, then nods. I help Edward to his feet then lead him into the kitchen, pulling out one of the stools by the kitchen island for him.

I dig around in the fridge, finding some leftover barbecue pulled pork from last weekend. It looks like enough for a sandwich or two, so I stick the container in the microwave and pull a hamburger bun out of the bag in the bread box.

"Another beer?" I ask. He nods and I grab a bottle from the fridge, handing it to him.

"Thanks. You know I could've done this myself. I _can_ work a microwave."

"Probably, but you hadn't, so I'm doing it," I shrug. When the microwave beeps, I spoon some of the pulled pork onto the bun and set the plate in front of him. "There's more if you want another one."

When he finishes his sandwich in less than two minutes, I fix him another without even asking.

"So, um," I begin, sitting down on the stool beside him, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"One of my patients, a 13-year-old boy, was found dead in his bedroom by his mother this morning. He'd hung himself."

I gasp. "Oh my God, Edward!"

"I got the call to come to the hospital, and I tried to comfort his parents as best I could. He left a note," he continues. "He said he'd done it because he was a freak."

"A freak?"

He nods. "He'd discovered that he was attracted to the wrong people… his friends, and not the girls in his class."

"Oh…" I whisper. No wonder this hit Edward so hard. "Did you… know?"

"No. I last saw him for a routine appointment about nine months ago and he didn't say anything to me," he replies.

"There was nothing you could've done then, Edward," I tell him gently, laying my hand on his arm.

"Maybe there was," he shrugs.

"What do you mean?"

"If I wasn't such a pussy who's in the closet at work, if he'd known about me, maybe he would've felt like he could confide in me. Maybe I could've helped him."

I bite my lip, looking over at him. "I think… being out would probably cause more harm than good."

"Yeah," he sighs, "You're probably right. I'm sure there are a lot of families who would never send their children to a gay — bisexual — pediatrician." He takes a long sip of his beer then tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "It's just… I think I know how he must have felt. I was freaked out too when I discovered I was attracted to boys."

"Did you ever think of killing yourself?" I ask in alarm. I can't imagine a world without Edward.

"No," he shakes his head. "I just vowed never to act on those… feelings."

"When did you first discover them?" I ask tentatively. I don't want to make Edward remember a horrible time in his life, but I really am curious.

"I'd just turned 13," he replies. "That summer, I was goofing off with a bunch of my friends. We were wrestling, just being kids. I was pretty scrawny then, but I managed to pin down a smaller guy. And when I was on top of him… my body reacted."

"What did you do?"

He shrugs. "I jumped up and ran home, saying I forgot that my mom needed me for something. And then I locked myself in my room, crying. I tried to tell myself that it was just an involuntary reaction, that it didn't mean anything.

"But the next school year I was in eighth grade and all of my friends were talking about the girls they thought were so hot. I did agree on a couple of them, but I found that when I heard girls whispering about cute boys, I agreed with them, too. I thought I was the only person in the world who liked both boys and girls."

I stand up and move closer so that I can wrap him in a tight hug. "I'm sorry for earlier," he whispers. "I didn't get you in trouble, did I?"

"No," I assure him. "And you have nothing to apologize for. I enjoyed every second of it." Except maybe spending the rest of the afternoon and evening with no underwear.

He turns his head to look at me. "Really? I was pretty rough with you."

"Not too rough."

"So you're really ok with—"

I place two fingers over his mouth to shut him up, then kiss him sweetly. "Edward, I'm glad that you came to me, that you weren't afraid to take what you needed. You _should_ feel like you're able to. Just like I should be able to stop by your office any time I want for a little, um, private examination."

His eyes widen and he licks his lips. I think he likes the idea. "We don't have to be in my office to play doctor." _Yes, please._

* * *

**A/N:** What did you think of Bella's request of Edward? And how well he took her lesson to heart?

Up next: We meet Edward's family! Any thoughts on that?


	8. Christmas Vacation

**Author Note:** Thanks again for the continuing support for this story! I love to hear from all of you.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 8 — Christmas Vacation_

_December 2013_

Snuggled up to Edward's side, I close my eyes, trying to take a nap during our two-and-a-half-hour flight to Chicago.

It's not _my_ fault I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.

Given the fact that we'll be sleeping in separate bedrooms for the next five nights, Edward declared that he needed to get his fill of me before our trip. I think my body is _still_ tingling.

Having that tough discussion with my boyfriend last month was the smartest thing I ever did. Once he realized that he didn't have to hold back with me, I became acquainted with the "real" Edward.

Multiple times.

I'd thought our sex life was amazing before, but the last several weeks have been… I'm a _writer_ and I can't even describe it in words. While Edward isn't exactly _kinky_, he's definitely adventurous, up for trying anything once. He's having fun learning and trying out all of the different positions in which men and women can have sex. And me, I'm reaping the benefits — big time.

A couple of weeks ago, he asked to see my stash of sex toys. His eyes lit up when I showed him, and he suggested using one of my vibrators on me while he fucked me. Holy shit, that's all I'm gonna say.

Of course, I do catch him looking longingly at my ass sometimes. I've told him in no uncertain terms that the entire zone is designated as "exit only." Somehow, he managed to convince me to at least _think_ about letting him use his tongue or his finger. And I know he'd never hurt me, but… I still think I'd have to be pretty drunk to agree to either one.

It's around 2pm on the Sunday before Christmas when we land at O'Hare Airport. Edward and I get our bags then make our way to the car rental desk. Given the unpredictable December weather in Chicago, he's rented an SUV with four-wheel drive.

Edward's parents live in the northern Chicago suburbs, in Lake Forest, still in the same house he grew up in. I don't start to feel nervous until we pull into the driveway — probably because Edward seems nervous.

"Are you ok?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assures me. Edward grabs both of our bags from the back, insisting on handling mine for me, even though it has wheels and a handle so I could totally manage it myself. Once we've reached the Cullens' huge porch I ring the doorbell, as his hands are full.

"Edward!" his mom calls as she throws the door open. "Look at you, ringing the doorbell. You could've used your key."

"Sorry, Ma," he replies, stepping over the threshold.

"Hello, Mrs. Cullen," I greet her.

"Good to see you again, dear," she smiles warmly. "I've made up the same room for you as last time."

I thank her, following Edward up the curved staircase to the second floor. He leaves my bag in the lovely green-themed guest room, shaking his head. After dropping his suitcase in his old bedroom, we head back downstairs.

"Your father is still at work, but we have reservations at Lovell's for six o'clock," Mrs. Cullen says. "Your brother and his wife will be joining us."

"Sounds good," he nods. "Um, Bella and I will meet you there. I wanted to show her around the area a little bit since we never got much of a chance to go sightseeing when we were here for the wedding."

"Oh. All right," she replies with a frown. "See you tonight." She hugs him goodbye.

Outside, I wrap my arms around myself. Chicago is _cold_ in December and even my heaviest coat isn't really enough. At least Edward's not complaining about having the heater on full blast in the SUV.

We spend the next couple of hours driving around while he points out his old high school and any other place for which he has fond memories. I feel like it helps me to know my boyfriend a little bit better.

Just before six, we pull into the parking lot of Lovell's of Lake Forest, which Edward tells me is an upscale "New American" restaurant. Inside, his parents are already seated at a table.

"Did you guys have a fun afternoon?" Mrs. Cullen asks once we're seated.

"Yeah, it was great," I reply.

"How was your flight?" Dr. Cullen asks.

"Perfect," Edward replies. "No delays, which seems to be more and more rare these days. Of course, Bella slept through it."

I feel myself turning bright red. "Not my fault," I insist, kicking him under the table. I doubt he wants me to tell his parents what we were doing until 2am.

I'm saved by the arrival of Edward's brother, Emmett, and his wife, Rosalie. Emmett is a huge bear of a guy, easily a couple of inches taller than Edward and with 50 pounds of added muscle. He's a paramedic in downtown Chicago. Their father had wanted Emmett to go into medicine as well, but when I first met him, he joked that he wasn't smart enough to get through medical school. Rosalie is a stunningly gorgeous blonde — the type who makes me feel plain and mousy — who works as a social worker and advocate for abused women.

I smile as Edward stands to give his brother one of those typical slap-on-the-back, one-armed man hugs. Emmett is younger by two years, but for some reason Edward seems to be the "little brother" in their relationship, enduring all of the teasing. I assume it's due to their size difference. I remember Edward telling me that his brother doesn't share their parents' views on social issues, which I'm glad for.

I look over the menu and it looks great, American food with some Cajun influences. I finally settle on Idaho mountain trout, shaking my head at Edward's huge rack of lamb.

"Where are you working these days, Bella?" Edward's father asks.

"Oh, um, I'm a waitress at a seafood restaurant. I've been there for a little less than a year now," I answer. I don't know if the question was meant to make me feel bad, but I do. I know I'm not in the same league with these successful, accomplished people.

"Bella is a writer, and she recently sent out a novel to several agents and publishers," Edward speaks up. "She's very talented; someday everyone will know that."

"Oh, what kind of novel?" his mom asks.

"It's kind of a mystery-thriller," I reply quickly, wisely leaving out the "erotic" part; I'm sure Edward's mom would just die reading the sex scenes in it. I nearly choke on my glass of wine just thinking about her reaction.

After a long, leisurely dinner, we say goodnight to Emmett and Rosalie and follow Edward's parents home. Edward and his father go into the study to talk medical stuff, leaving me alone with his mother. She offers to make a pot of decaf coffee and I readily agree.

"Your kitchen is just gorgeous, Mrs. Cullen," I tell her, looking around from my stool at the large granite island.

"Oh, please, call me Esme," she smiles. "And thank you. I decorated it all myself, of course."

"I don't know why Edward hasn't called you to come decorate our beach house." Esme sets her cup down, staring at me. It takes me a full 15 seconds to realize what I said. I'd called it _our_ house.

"You and Edward… live together?" she asks in horror.

"Um, yes," I reply, clearing my throat. "I, um, moved in back in March." Even if it was into my own bedroom.

"Are you _engaged_? I don't see a ring," she adds with a frown.

"No, we're not engaged." _Oh fuck, Bella, you've really put your foot in your mouth._ I'm afraid that if Edward wasn't almost a foot taller than his mom, she'd turn him over her knee.

"Carlisle!" she yells.

In less than a minute, Edward and his father rush into the kitchen. "What is it, dear?" he asks.

"Edward and Bella are _living together_," she tells him, the dismay evident in her voice.

I look over at Edward, trying my best to silently communicate how sorry I am.

"Is this true, son?" his father asks.

"Yes," Edward replies defiantly. "Honestly, Dad, it is the 21st century. Millions of couples live together." He shakes his head, stepping over to me and rubbing his hand in circles on my back.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper to him. "I accidentally called it _our_ house." He kisses my temple, letting me know that he's not upset with me.

"The Bears game started at 7:30," Edward says to his parents. "Bella and I are gonna go watch it." He helps me off the stool and we step into the large family room, complete with what must be at least a 60-inch flat screen television.

"I'm surprised you don't have one of those," I tease him. Our TV is "only" about 45 inches.

"Hmmm… maybe I'll get one," he replies with a wink. He turns on the TV, settling into one end of the couch and pulling me into his side.

"I'm sorry," I tell him again.

"It had to come out sometime," he shrugs. "I'm so fucking tired of hiding." I lean up to kiss his jaw and snuggle into his warm body.

At some point, Edward's parents join us, sitting together on the loveseat. They look like they want to chastise him, but they don't, and I'm grateful.

The Bears play a horrible game, losing 54-11 to the Philadelphia Eagles. If we were at home, I'd drop to my knees to try to make Edward feel better. I have to remind myself repeatedly that his parents are sitting a few feet away and I can't do that.

"I'm going to head up to bed," I say with a yawn as I stand up. I feel a little bit like I'm leaving Edward to the lions, but I really am exhausted.

"Goodnight, baby," he says, squeezing my hand.

Upstairs in my bedroom, I change into my pajamas then move to the hall bathroom for my nightly routine. Edward's childhood bedroom has an en suite bathroom, but mine does not, unfortunately. After I've brushed my teeth, I head back to my room and crawl under the covers.

I'm nearly asleep when I hear the quiet squeak of the door opening and footsteps padding across the floor. Someone that I really hope is Edward lifts the covers and then I feel his weight on the mattress. A warm arm wraps around me, pulling me back into an even warmer chest.

"Are you awake?" he whispers.

"No."

"Liar." He brushes my hair back and begins kissing along my neck.

"Edward."

"Hmmmm?"

"Your parents' room is right next door. I'm not having sex with you." Oh my God, I never thought I'd say those words to my gorgeous boyfriend.

He sighs, pulling me even closer. His left hand moves to cup my breast and I let out an involuntary moan.

"I'm serious, Edward," I protest. "I am _not_ getting caught by your mother."

He groans loudly, dropping his head to my neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now let me get some sleep."

* * *

Way too fucking early, I feel Edward shaking my arm until I open my eyes. "I hear the shower in my parents' room. I need to get back to my bedroom before they catch me in here."

"Ok," I mumble, closing my eyes again.

When I finally do wake up fully, I shower and get dressed. I find Edward downstairs eating a piece of toast. "Where are your parents?" I ask.

"At work," he replies with his mouth full. I still haven't cured him of that. "I thought we could go downtown today and get some shopping in, go to Michigan Avenue and all that."

"Sounds good."

"Mom left a note that she's cooking dinner tonight. She's making my favorite meatloaf with a side of mac and cheese."

"Ooh, comfort food," I joke.

"You know it."

"I really am sorry that I let it slip to your mom about us living together."

"It's fine, Bella. Really. I was planning to tell them anyway. I don't care if they're disappointed in me; we're not doing anything wrong," he says forcefully.

Once I've had breakfast, Edward and I drive downtown, where the city is decorated for Christmas. Growing up in Phoenix, I've never had a white Christmas, never understood the meaning of all of the Christmas songs about riding in a sleigh, or sipping hot chocolate in front of a roaring fireplace. It's beautiful.

And also fucking cold. Give me my Florida Christmas any day.

I've had Edward's gift purchased for a couple of weeks already, but I still need to pick up gifts for the rest of his family. I knew we wouldn't have been able to wrap the boxes before putting them in our checked luggage anyway.

I always find it so much easier to get gifts for women, so I quickly pick out lovely scarves for Esme and Rosalie at a store on the Magnificent Mile. Edward tells me that his brother has really gotten into golf, just like their father, so I end up buying both of them some golf balls and tees.

After lunch, we stop at the John Hancock Center building, riding the elevator to the 94th floor to look out over the city.

"The lake looks beautiful," I note.

"Yeah," Edward agrees. "When I was a kid, we had a boat and used to go sailing on Lake Michigan. But I think I prefer the ocean."

He comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me as we stare down at the city below. When he starts nibbling my neck, I tilt my head, letting him have at it.

"My parents aren't home," he whispers. "Maybe we should head back and take advantage."

My girly parts tingle at the thought. But no, we can't. "As tempting as that is, isn't there a lot more you wanted to show me?"

"Fine, fine," he pouts, letting me go. Outside we head south and east, as Edward shows me the campus of Northwestern University, where he went to school for his undergrad.

"So you lived on campus?" I ask.

"Yeah," he replies. "For one thing, it was better than facing the traffic driving down here and parking every day. Plus, my parents thought it would be good for me to have some independence."

"So that's how you managed to date a boy right under their noses," I note.

"Yeah," he smiles, "That's how."

"Was Riley from Chicago?"

"No," he shakes his head. "He was from a small town in southern Illinois." _Good_, I think to myself. No chance of running into him around here.

After touring the campus, we continue southeast to Navy Pier. It's really fucking cold down by the water, but at least some of the sights are indoors. Edward tries to talk me into riding the Ferris wheel, but no chance in this wind. Maybe if we ever come back in the summer.

Eventually we have to go find where we parked the car so we can reach Lake Forest by 6:30pm. At least traffic seems to be relatively light; there must be a lot of people off work this week.

We make it to Edward's parents' house with enough time for me to wrap both my gifts and the ones Edward bought in my room before dinner. He helps me carry them downstairs and place them underneath the gorgeous real Christmas tree; no artificial tree for Esme Cullen.

Once Emmett and Rosalie have arrived, we step into the dining room for dinner. Conversation at first centers around the calls that Emmett went on today. After a short lull in the conversation, Esme says the dreaded words:

"So, Edward, when are you going to make an honest woman of Bella instead of living in sin?"

All eyes turn to my boyfriend and I feel so bad for him, being put on the spot like that. He clears his throat then answers, "It's still early yet, Ma."

"It's not that early," she frowns. "You two have been dating for at least 18 months, and Bella said she's been living with you since March."

Edward is quiet for a moment, looking over at me helplessly. "Mrs. Cullen — Esme — I know without a doubt that I love your son. He makes me very, very happy, but right now, we don't need a piece of paper. We're fine just as we are."

"But it's not right," she protests, "Living in sin like that."

"Not everyone thinks it's a sin, Ma," Edward says. He sounds so frustrated.

"Leave them alone, Ma," Emmett speaks up. "Rosie and I dated for two years before we got engaged." I send a tiny smile Emmett's way.

"Oh, speaking of marriage," Dr. Cullen begins, "Did you hear, Edward, that the governor signed a law last month recognizing same-sex marriage in Illinois? It takes effect in June."

"Such an abomination," Esme adds.

The room is quiet as Edward's fork falls to his plate. I can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and I quickly place my hand on his thigh.

"What's it to you?" Edward asks quietly. "What difference does it make to you if a loving, committed couple, who happen to be the same gender, want to get married?"

"It's not natural, honey," Esme says. "Marriage is for procreation. Allowing two men or two women to marry undermines the institution of marriage."

"But what's it to _you_, personally?"

"If we allow this deviant lifestyle, what's next? Legalizing polygamy? Or incest? If we legitimize this sick behavior, it's the beginning of the end for society."

"With all due respect, Esme," Rosalie begins, "The National Association of Social Workers, and many other groups, have found that homosexuality isn't a chosen behavior and that gay and lesbian people can form stable, committed relationships that are no different from heterosexual relationships. Same-sex parents are no less capable of raising psychologically healthy and well-adjusted children."

"But the Bible says—"

"Ma," Emmett says, "Just remember that not everyone believes in your Bible."

Esme frowns, turning to me. "And you, Bella, what do you think?"

"I… I don't see how gay marriage is a threat to anyone. Of course it should be allowed." She frowns again, and I know I just failed some sort of test.

"So, did you guys see that Bears game last night?" Emmett asks, blessedly trying to change the subject.

I keep my left hand on Edward's thigh for the rest of the meal, though it's difficult to eat one-handed. I look over at him occasionally and notice him just pushing the remaining food around on his plate. I want to hold him and comfort him so badly.

"You want to help me clear the table, Edward?" Emmett asks.

"Sure," he replies quietly.

"We'll make some coffee," Emmett says.

I sit for a few minutes while Edward's parents talk with Rosalie, then decide to join the guys in the kitchen. I don't trust my boyfriend with a coffee pot.

I stop in the kitchen doorway, moving out of sight, when I hear Emmett speaking. "… can't let their bigotry get to you. Rosie and I just stop listening when they talk like that."

"I know."

"And don't let them bully you into proposing, either. Do what feels right to you," Emmett adds.

"They can't bully me into anything," Edward scoffs.

"Good. You know… you're different."

"What do you mean?"

"Just… you and Bella. Admittedly, I was distracted by getting married myself the last time I saw you two, but you seemed almost more like best friends than lovers. This time, I see the affectionate touches, the little looks between the two of you."

I hold my breath, wondering how Edward will answer that. Will he confess the truth to his brother?

"I think maybe this time I just don't give a fuck how we act in front of our parents," Edward lies.

Emmett chuckles. "Are they making you guys sleep in separate bedrooms?"

"Yes," Edward pouts, and his brother chuckles again.

"You know, Rosie and I lived together for a year before we got married," Emmett confesses. "We just never told 'em."

"Bella accidentally let it slip last night by asking Ma about redecorating _our_ beach house."

"Oooh, ouch."

"Yeah…"

The conversation seems to end there, so I plaster a smile on my face and step into the kitchen. "Hey, guys," I call. "Need any help? We all know how useless Edward is in the kitchen."

"Hey! I made toast this morning."

"We've got it; thanks, Bella," Emmett says. He loads a tray with four cups of coffee and carries it into the dining room.

"Are you all right?" I ask quietly, throwing my arms around my boyfriend. He hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head.

"Someday I'm going to tell them. They're going to piss me off so badly that I'll just blurt it out."

I look up into his sad, green eyes. "And I'll be right beside you, supporting you, when you do."

Grabbing our own cups of coffee, we join the others in the dining room, then retire to the family room to watch Christmas shows on TV.

"You'll all come to the Christmas Eve services at church tomorrow night, won't you?" Esme asks. I look to Edward. I wasn't raised in the church at all, but I'll go if he wants to.

"What time?" Emmett asks.

"Eight o'clock," she replies. "I was hoping we could spend the next two days together as a family."

"Rosie and I are going to visit her parents tomorrow, but we'll try to come to church," Emmett says. "We'll be over on Christmas Day though."

"Edward?" his father asks hopefully.

"We'll come," he nods, looking over at me for my blessing. I smile encouragingly.

Once Emmett and Rosalie have left, Edward and I excuse ourselves. And once again, he slips into my room and my bed shortly after I do.

"Not gonna happen, Edward," I mumble as he sucks on my neck.

"Please?" he begs. "I need you."

_God_, he's so hard to resist, especially when he begs. I flip over until I'm on my left side, facing him. "We can fool around, but I'm not having sex where they could overhear us."

He frowns. "Then you should come to my room. They won't be able to hear us in there."

"Tomorrow," I promise, before taking his lips in mine.

As we kiss, I hitch my leg over his hip and I _feel_ him there, hot and hard. Some part of me just wants to say fuck it and get naked, but I don't want Edward's parents to hate me more than they probably already do. They undoubtedly think I've corrupted him or something.

After several minutes, Edward rolls me on to my back and stretches out on top of me. I sigh when he moves from my mouth to my jaw and collarbone. He's making it very, very difficult to be a good girl.

"Edward," I warn when I feel him pushing up on my pajama top. He doesn't listen, of course, taking my aching nipple in his mouth as soon as it's uncovered.

"Please, baby," he whispers, tugging on my bottoms. I lift my hips, letting him pull my pants down, and suddenly I'm lying naked in the guest room bed. Edward quickly sits up and starts stripping his own clothes off.

"I said no sex," I remind him… though my control is slipping by the second.

Groaning, he flops onto his back, lying with his head at the bottom of the bed, and pulls at my legs until he can reach my hips. When I realize he's trying to flip me over, I comply, letting him position me over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me down even further, until his tongue can reach my very needy girl parts.

"Fuck," I curse lowly as he takes a long lick with his oh-so-talented tongue. I spend a few seconds enjoying his ministrations before I remember that I'm supposed to be doing something. Bracing myself on one arm, I take his hard cock in my other hand, bringing it to my mouth. He moans out his pleasure, and oh shit, that feels good.

I lavish his cock with attention as he does the same to me. Thank God his cock in my mouth is holding in my whimpers, or I'd totally give us away. As I feel myself getting closer, I begin riding his face, trying to keep his length moving in and out of my mouth.

And then I feel his finger lightly circling my back door.

"Edward," I warn.

"I won't hurt you," he promises. And then suddenly his tongue is right there, following the same path his finger just did. I'm so freaked out wondering what he's going to do next that I've all but stopped sucking him off.

"Relax, Bella." His mouth moves back to suck my clit into his mouth, and I do relax, sucking on the head of his cock once again. This time when I feel his finger there, I don't tense up as much, but I'm ready to bolt if he goes too far.

"Fuck… gonna come," he warns, and I suck him in deep to make sure I don't spill a drop. After a few seconds, he redoubles his efforts and I'm falling over the edge in no time, shaking and shuddering.

I collapse onto my back, eyes closed and breathing heavily. I feel the bed move, opening my eyes to see Edward staring into them. "I love you," he whispers. As he leans down to kiss me, I shove him away — hard.

"Don't even think about it until you go gargle with… something."

"You're serious?"

"Go!" I whisper-yell. In the moonlight, I can just barely make out his eye-roll. He pulls his pants on then tiptoes to the doorway.

I pull my clothes on, snuggling under the covers as I assume he won't come back now that he got what he wanted. A couple of minutes later, I hear the door opening again though.

I roll over as he climbs into bed, then blows his minty fresh breath in my face. "_Now_ can I kiss you goodnight?" he asks.

"Yes."

He kisses me sweetly then pulls back, brushing my hair off my face. "I'd never hurt you."

"I know, but…"

"I won't do anything you don't want me to. Scout's Honor."

"You were never a scout," I snort.

"No," he chuckles. "I wasn't." He pulls me onto his warm, bare chest, and I snuggle up, laying my arm over his stomach. Inside, I'm trying not to freak out about the very real possibility that Edward's interest in off-limits parts of my body could spell trouble for us.

I lean down to lightly kiss his chest. "I love you too, Edward."

* * *

**A/N:** So, we've met Edward's family! What did you think of them? How many of you know people who think exactly like Carlisle and Esme?

The gay marriage law in Illinois is real. I couldn't believe my luck when I was researching and found something so perfect to jump start the conversation.

I will update again on **Thursday** with the second half of their adventure in Chicago.


	9. A Christmas Story

**Author Note:** An interesting debate from the last chapter – should Bella be more willing to let Edward experiment with her back door? Should she try it before dissing it?

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 9 — A Christmas Story_

When I open my eyes on the morning of Christmas Eve, I'm alone in bed. I guess Edward decided not to wake me before sneaking out this time. He was just being considerate… right?

I dig my clothes out of my suitcase, then make my way to the hall bathroom. After a quick shower, I'm heading downstairs, my nose following the smell of bacon cooking.

I find Edward and his father seated at the kitchen island while Esme stands over a frying pan. "Good morning," I greet everyone, kissing my boyfriend on the cheek. "Do you need any help, Esme?"

"Oh no, I've got it," she replies. I take a stool next to Edward, watching as Esme sets the bacon on a paper towel to soak up the grease, then sets the plate in front of us.

"How would you like your eggs, Bella?" she asks. "The boys want fried eggs."

"Scrambled for me, if you don't mind."

"After breakfast, Carlisle and I were wondering if you two would like to come with us to Gurnee Mills," Esme says as she cracks two eggs into a pan.

"What's Gurnee Mills?"

"Hell," Edward answers. I look up at him. "The largest outlet mall in Illinois," he clarifies.

"Sounds like fun," I reply with a smile. I know he's just posturing a bit for his parents. Edward actually likes shopping with me, though like any man, he does reach his maximum time limit before a woman would. Full-day marathons are more than he can take.

After we finish breakfast, Edward and I get into our rental car, following his parents to Gurnee Mills. Once we've parked, we enter near the Macy's store. Along with his parents, Edward and I walk hand in hand through the huge mall as Esme points out her favorite stores to me. I think my taste runs a bit… _younger_ though. We make short stops in a couple of stores, but mostly I compile a mental list of all of the places I'd like to come back to.

Around noon, we reach one of the food courts, where as a girl who grew up in Arizona, I'm pleased to see a place selling Tex-Mex food.

"What are you two planning to do this afternoon?" Dr. Cullen asks as we sit down to eat. "Esme and I were planning to go visit some friends who live up here."

"I thought we'd go up to Rink Side," Edward replies. "Maybe take on Bella in a game of lazer tag."

_Game on, buddy._ "Don't forget there are more stores I wanted to go into," I remind him.

"Would you two like to join us for dinner tonight before church?" Esme asks, sounding hopeful.

"No, we'll meet you there. I want to take Bella for some real Chicago pizza."

When we've finished eating, we do indeed check out Rink Side, acting like kids again in the arcade before Edward challenges me to a game of lazer tag. We join a larger group, and neither of us is a winner, though I do score higher than my boyfriend.

"Why don't you go in there and buy me a Christmas present?" Edward says, nodding to his right as we walk back in the direction we started. I follow where his eyes are trained and spot Victoria's Secret.

"Buy _you_ a present in there? You like to wear women's lingerie now?"

"I like it on _you_," he scowls, slapping my arm. "I'll meet you out here."

"What have you got up your sleeve, Cullen?" I ask, eyebrow raised, when I realize he's trying to get rid of me. Smiling, he kisses my lips before walking away.

A half hour later, I'm armed with two new bras and several pairs of lacy panties. I find Edward standing outside the store, holding a bag from Bed, Bath & Beyond.

"What's in the bag?"

"Later," he smiles. "What's in yours?" he asks eagerly.

"Later."

As we work our way back through the mall, Edward is helpful for about two hours before I can tell he's reached his limit.

"If you buy much more, it's not going to fit in our suitcases," he grumbles as I walk into Off 5th, the Saks outlet store.

"Good thing there are several stores here that sell suitcases then."

He perks up again briefly, watching me try on designer jeans in Buckle, then acts like I'm subjecting him to torture as I look at purses in Fossil. My boyfriend is not into accessories.

After I do indeed stop in Kohl's for a new suitcase, we're finally back to the entrance where we'd parked hours ago. Despite his whining, Edward is actually a sweetheart, carrying most of my purchases and loading the trunk for me.

"So which Chicago pizza place are we going to?" I ask as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Giordano's. There's one right down the street."

Even on Christmas Eve, we have to wait a few minutes to be seated. "We are not ordering your pussy Hawaiian pizza in Chicago now," Edward says as I pick up the menu.

"Oh please," I scoff, "You like pineapple on your pizza, too. I've seen you order it all on your own." He sticks his tongue out at me in response.

"A-ha!" I exclaim a minute later. "They have a Tropic delight pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple."

"Yes, but if you order that, they'll know you're not a native Chicagoan. How about the Chicago classic?"

I find the Chicago classic on the menu: pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers and onions. "Fine," I agree, just to appease him — though I don't really like green peppers.

Once we've placed our order, we have a bit of a wait for the deep dish pizza, so I decide to ask Edward about tonight.

"Are you ok with going to church with your parents tonight?" I ask tentatively.

He shrugs. "In public, the church members will say all the right things, like being charitable and welcoming to your neighbor."

"It must have been so hard for you growing up listening to their hate." I shake my head; I can't even imagine what he went through as a teenager.

"I used to have nightmares," he confesses quietly. "Even though I never acted on my attraction to guys when I lived at home, what if they could see it? What if they could somehow look at me and see it? What if they kicked me out on the streets?"

"Do you really think they'd disown you or something if you told them?"

"You heard them last night, Bella."

"I know, but you're their _son_. They love you."

"And despite their beliefs, I love them, too. Which is why I can't chance telling them and ripping the family apart. It's irrelevant now, anyway, given that I'm with you," he points out.

"Maybe," I allow, "But obviously it's still hard for you to hear their bigoted opinions."

"I wish I could just tune them out the way Emmett and Rose do." I reach across the table, squeezing his hand, just as the server comes by with our pizza.

I have to admit: it's good. I don't even mind the green peppers.

Once we're both stuffed, it's time to leave for church. Fifteen minutes later I'm holding tightly to Edward's hand as I let him lead me down the aisle, until we find his parents, Emmett and Rose already seated. We slide into the pew next to Dr. Cullen and Edward wraps his arm around my shoulder, kissing just beneath my ear.

"Thank you," he whispers. "I know it means a lot to them for us to be here."

Listening to the sermon, it appears that Edward was absolutely right. They do say all the right things about helping our fellow man, especially during this holiday season. Unfortunately, I know that their charity doesn't extend to _all_ men.

At some point, Edward begins drawing small circles on my shoulder with his right hand, while his left hand plays with mine on his lap. He leans over periodically as if to whisper in my ear, but instead sucks gently on my earlobe. I begin squirming in my seat as I get more and more turned on from his gentle touches.

"Sit still," he whispers. I elbow him in the ribs, glaring at his childishness. He totally knows what he's doing to me.

After the final "Amen," we all stand, trying to make our way to the aisle. Several of his parents' friends stop Edward to welcome him home, tell him he looks great… and ask if he's married. He just shakes his head with a smile, introducing me to them as his girlfriend.

Finally we're back in the car, where I try to warm my hands in front of the vents. The temperature has dropped since this afternoon, and even just the short walk to the car is too much for my Florida "winter" coat and gloves.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," I observe.

"No," he agrees. "Except for getting my cheeks pinched by so many old ladies." I can't help laughing at his distress.

"Keep your phone on tonight," he suggests, "And I'll text you when it's safe to sneak into my room."

"Edward Cullen, did you learn nothing in church tonight?" I tease him.

"I'm already going to hell; might as well do it thoroughly."

* * *

I'm nearly asleep when my phone buzzes with an incoming text.

**The coast is clear.**

Rolling my eyes, I climb out of bed, tiptoeing across the floor. I slowly open the bedroom door, making sure the hallway really is empty before stepping out of the guest room. I close the door behind me, then walk over to Edward's room and carefully open his door.

When I step inside, the room is mostly dark, illuminated only by a bedside lamp. As I turn to close the door, strong arms wrap around me from behind.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Edward asks quietly, nipping at my neck.

"Hmmm… not in a few hours, maybe."

He places my hands on the bedroom door, then moves my hair over one shoulder to give him more access as his hands brush up and down my sides and around to cup my breasts in his hands.

"God, I wish I could just take you against the door."

"I think your parents would definitely hear us then," I reply, though I really, really like the sound of that.

As he holds me tightly, I can feel his erection against my backside and I can't help grinding back into him.

"Shit," he groans, letting go of me. "Go lie on the bed before I decide I don't give a fuck if they overhear or not."

Well, he doesn't have to tell me twice! Shedding my pajamas along the way, I am undressed and lying on Edward's childhood bed in no time. It's only as he stalks toward me that I realize he's been buck naked the entire time.

And God, his beauty still stuns me.

"Am I the first woman who's been in this bed, Edward?" I ask cheekily.

"Yes and no," he answers, pouncing on me.

"What does that mean?"

"I brought my first girlfriend, Tanya, up here, but she was more girl than woman," he shrugs.

"You snuck your girlfriend into this house? Really?" I can't believe he would risk that.

"My parents were out of town and left me and Emmett alone. Now do you really want to talk about her?" he asks, skimming his hand along my hip.

In answer to that, I pull his mouth down to mine. With wandering hands, we kiss until we're both desperate for air, and then Edward begins licking and sucking his way down my torso, stopping off for a long while at my breasts. When he starts kissing down my stomach, I tug at his hair until he looks up at me questioningly.

"You're making me crazy," I groan. "I need you now."

"As you wish." Kneeling, he spreads my legs, lifting my right leg onto his shoulder. And then staring into my eyes, he gently pushes inside. He makes love to me slowly for a while before picking up the pace until I'm panting and moaning.

"Shhh… you're gonna wake my parents," he chastises me, pulling out and lowering my leg to the bed. He crawls up next to me and rolls me to my side, lifting my leg so he can slide inside from behind.

"I love you," Edward whispers, turning my head so that he can kiss me, swallowing my moans. As he begins thrusting harder, his hand moves down to stroke just where I need him. When my orgasm ripples through me, he kisses me harder until I feel him coming.

"Shit," he moans. "I meant to pull out first so _you_ didn't have to get up. Sorry."

I lie there letting my breathing slow, then kiss him chastely as I get up. "At least you have an en suite bath."

Once I've cleaned up, I turn out the lamp and join Edward in bed, snuggling into his warm body. "I love you."

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, Bella."

* * *

The beeping of an alarm wakes me at the ass-crack of dawn. "What the hell…?" I mumble.

"Tradition," Edward replies with a yawn. "Emmett and Rose should be here in about a half hour to open gifts."

Groaning, I climb out of bed, finding my pajamas on the floor. Once I'm decent, I peek out into the hallway and tiptoe to my own room to grab some clothes.

"Ready?" Edward asks, peeking his head into the bathroom just as I'm brushing my teeth. Nodding when I've finished, I take his hand and let him lead me downstairs.

"What's that I smell?"

"Mom's homemade cinnamon rolls — they're fucking awesome," he replies.

The doorbell rings just as we reach the kitchen, and Edward goes to answer it. "Can I help, Esme?" I ask, watching as she peers into the oven.

"Oh, could you set the table, dear?"

"Sure," I nod, glad to be of help.

Esme pulls the cinnamon rolls out of the oven, just as the rest of the family enters the kitchen. "Man, it's a good thing we've got four-wheel drive," Emmett says as he pulls out a chair. "The snow's really starting to come down out there."

I go to look out the window, mesmerized by the huge, white flakes falling from the sky. I've seen a little bit of snow before when I lived in Washington with my dad, but nothing like this. Finally the amazing aromas coming from the table convince me to sit down and eat.

"You've got to give me the recipe for these, Esme," I gush as I lift a second roll onto my plate. Edward was definitely right about them — far better than even Cinnabon.

"Of course," she smiles.

Once we're all done eating, Rose and I offer to clean up, putting all of the dishes in the dishwasher and turning it on. When we join the others in the family room, the three men all look like young children, eagerly awaiting word that they can start opening their gifts.

Dr. Cullen dons a Santa hat, then kneels under the tree and begins passing out the colorful wrapped packages, calling out our names one by one. When the last gift is in Emmett's hands, we begin tearing in to the boxes.

I pick up a flat, rectangular shaped package to open first, but Edward reaches out, touching my arm. "Save that one for last," he says.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I set it aside and pick up a small package that says it's from Edward's parents. Inside is a bottle of what is sure to be expensive French perfume, with a fancy name — Belle Cherie. "Thank you so much, Esme," I smile.

I pick up a large gift bag from Edward, pulling out a huge straw hat, and look at him questioningly.

"Look at the bottom of the bag," he suggests. I lift out all of the tissue paper and find an envelope underneath it, trying to make sense of the papers inside.

"Cancun?"

"Yep," he smiles. "We're going on vacation to an all-inclusive resort in Cancun next month. I already cleared it with your boss, so you have no excuses."

I launch myself at him, wrapping him tightly in my arms. "Thank you," I whisper, kissing him chastely. _Take that, Angela!_

I see Edward pick up my package next, groaning as he opens the box to find another box inside — three times — until he finally reaches the envelope with his real gift. "Oh wow," he exclaims, holding up the pair of tickets to a touring production of the musical _Wicked_ for March of next year.

"Let me see, Edward," his mom says, holding her hand out for the tickets. "Oh, that is such a great show," she adds. "Your father and I saw it on Broadway last year when we visited New York."

"How did you manage to get these, Bella?" he asks. "I thought the entire run sold out in a few hours."

"Connections," I reply with a smirk. Angela's boss's wife is a huge supporter of the local theater.

Finally I'm down to that last rectangular box from Edward. I carefully peel back the gift wrap to find a picture frame with a document inside. As I scan the words on the page, I can hardly believe what I'm reading.

The letter is from one of the publishers that I'd sent my manuscript to last month, saying that they're very interested in publishing it and asking me to give them a call after the holidays. "They want to publish my book," I breathe. I look up at Edward's grinning face, so many questions on the tip of my tongue.

"That came in the mail last Friday," he says before I can ask any of them. I try to re-read the letter, but tears are beginning to blur my vision. Not wanting to read rejection letter after rejection letter, I asked Edward to intercept any mail from agents or publishers and open them for me. He hadn't told me that I'd received anything at all — good or bad.

Suddenly, he's sitting right beside me and I'm in his arms. "Merry Christmas, baby," he whispers in my ear. "I knew you could do it."

Someone takes the framed letter from my hands, and the next thing I know, the rest of the Cullen family is congratulating me. Edward gently brushes my tears away, beaming with pride.

"Whoa," Emmett yells after all of the gifts have been opened. "Look outside!" We all crowd around the large bay window, noting that the snow from earlier must've been falling steadily for a couple of hours now. "Dude, let's go make snowmen," he suggests, slapping Edward on the back.

"I don't think I have the right clothes for that," Edward chuckles.

Emmett moves to the foyer, coming back with a pair of boots and a long, dark wool coat. "Dad's should fit you," he says, handing them to his brother before reaching for his own coat. Rosalie gets up to join them, and I shake my head, laughing at the overgrown children.

"Come on, Bella," Rose encourages.

"Oh, I don't—" There's no way in hell my coat from Florida is warm enough to go play in the _snow_.

"You could wear mine, dear," Esme says, heading into the hallway.

Moments later, I slide my feet into Esme's boots and my arms into her long, down-filled coat, then let Edward pull me toward the door to the back deck. Rose and I stop on the edge of the deck where we're somewhat protected from the wind and snow as the two brothers start chasing each other around the backyard.

"I thought you were supposed to be building snowmen!" I yell down to them, shaking my head.

"Better to let them run off some energy," Rose replies with a smile. "Emmett really misses his brother; I wish the two of you would come back to Chicago more often."

I smile at her effort to include me. "Edward is just so busy with his medical practice. I'm surprised he'll be able to get the time off to go to Cancun."

I laugh at Edward's yelp when Emmett catches him, shoving a fistful of snow down the back of his coat. The two do finally settle down a bit and start rolling a large ball of snow for the bottom of the snowman.

I wrap my arms around myself, rubbing my arms. "Still cold?" Rose asks.

I nod, my teeth chattering. "I grew up mostly in Phoenix, so I'm just not used to this."

She eventually decides to join the guys, trying to find sticks for the arms and other items with which to accessorize the snowman. I watch with a smile, glad to see Edward so happy. I'm sure if not for his parents' beliefs, he _would_ come back to Chicago and visit his brother more often.

When the snowman is finished, Rose heads back inside to help Esme with Christmas dinner, while I stay to watch the guys and their snowball fight. Emmett must've been a high school athlete, because he's got a great throwing arm and most definitely seems to be winning the fight.

"Look out, Edward," I yell just as Emmett clobbers him with a huge snowball, then begins stuffing snow down his back again. Finally I decide to go help my boyfriend by pulling Emmett off of him. I have to laugh at all of the snow in his hair.

"You so need another shower," I tell him, kneeling down to help brush the snow off.

"You gonna come with me?" he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, like that would go over well with your parents," I reply, rolling my eyes. I stand up, holding out my hand for Edward to take, then brush all of the snow off of his back and his very fine ass. He kisses me before making his way back to the deck.

"He's so different."

Startled, I turn around to where Emmett is looking intently at me. I'd totally forgotten that he was even there.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

Emmett motions for me to follow him back up to the deck and out of the steadily falling snow. "I just don't remember the last time I saw my brother this happy, this… carefree," he shrugs. I stare up at him, not knowing how to respond to that.

"It started maybe about the time I started middle school," he continues. "Edward was in eighth grade, should've been one of the kids ruling the school, but he'd just become so… quiet and withdrawn. He was always kind of quiet — well, compared to me," he laughs, "But not like that. I never could figure out what was wrong with him.

"For the next couple of years, we weren't attending the same school, but once I got to high school, he seemed outwardly fine. Like, he had this gorgeous girlfriend — sorry," he adds quickly, nodding at me. "He was top of his class in terms of grades, but I just got the sense that there was a lot going on in his head that no one knew about.

"I'm not going to ask you if you know what it was. I don't know if it matters now. What _does_ matter is that you seem to make him happy. He looks at you like you're the light in his day. _Thank you_, Bella," he says emphatically. "Thank you for whatever you've done for him."

"I've just loved him," I reply, tears pricking at my eyes. "Your brother is an amazingly strong person, Emmett."

"So you _do_ know." I nod carefully. "I'm glad he has you," he reiterates, hugging me briefly before opening the door.

Inside the warm house, I strip out of Esme's coat and boots, then trudge upstairs. I don't hear Edward's shower running, so I open his bedroom door and am startled as he steps out of the bathroom clad only in a towel slung low around his hips. I lick my lips at the sight in front of me.

He groans, staring intently at me. "Don't tempt me, baby."

Smirking, I step closer, drawing one finger along his damp chest. He swallows thickly, staring down at me. "Do you really want me to go back downstairs with a hard-on?" he asks huskily.

"No, we can't have that." Pulling the towel from around his hips, I kneel down in front of him and plunge his length into my mouth.

Ten minutes later, a very satisfied Edward and I walk downstairs, hand in hand. I reluctantly let him go so that he can join Carlisle and Emmett in watching sports on TV while I head to the kitchen to help Esme and Rose make sides for our turkey dinner.

As I walk into the kitchen, Rose catches my eye and winks. She totally knows what we were up to.

The turkey is ready by late afternoon, and I discover that I really should be taking pointers from Esme on how to cook a turkey — instead of my own mother — for when Edward and I host the holidays with a family of our own.

_Shit._

"Bella?" Edward gives me a concerned look.

"I-I was just thinking how delicious our dinner is," I reply… not quite lying.

And as I'm in Edward's arms, watching all of the classic Christmas movies with the rest of his family after dinner, I know for sure that I want that image I had in my head earlier. I want to spend the rest of my life with Edward — to grow old with him, to have a family of our own. Maybe some would say it's too fast since we've only been together as a couple for less than four months, but he's it for me. I know it.

With last night's church visit still in my head, I pray that he feels the same way… that I can be everything he needs.

* * *

**A/N:** They survived Christmas in Chicago!

There were a couple of questions last chapter… Emmett is more astute than the usual fic Emmett, but no, he's not aware that Edward has dated men. (And neither is Carlisle.) Do you think Edward should 'fess up to his family? Or he is correct that it's irrelevant now?

Bonus questions! What is your favorite Chicago pizza place? I don't live in Chicago, but I love pizza, so I've tried four different ones now: Giordano's, Gino's East, Lou Malnati's, and Pizano's. Who is right in the great toppings battle, Bella or Edward?


	10. Footloose

**Author Note:** The vast majority of you think that Edward should not tell his parents that he's ever dated men, though there are some who feel that he needs to do it for himself — not because he owes it to them.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 10 — Footloose_

_January 2014_

God, I have a great life.

On our first full day in Mexico, I'm sitting on a private beach belonging to our Cancun resort, wearing my new straw hat and sipping a pina colada while watching my extremely hot boyfriend navigate the turquoise-blue Caribbean Sea on a paddle board.

Feeling like I'm starting to fry, I reluctantly turn my attention away from Edward and apply another layer of SPF 50 sunscreen. I really wish he was here to get my back.

I turn back to my boyfriend when I've finished and am amazed by how well he's doing after just one 10-minute lesson. Oh, he tried to convince me to come out on the water with him, but I've always been somewhat clumsy and uncoordinated and am afraid of drowning.

Although, the thought of Edward giving me mouth-to-mouth…

This trip was supposed to be my Christmas present, but it's also turned into a bit of a celebration. From the time we left Chicago on the Friday after Christmas, until the holidays were officially over, I was on pins and needles waiting to call back the publishers who were interested in my book — which I did, first thing on January 2.

When I explained that I didn't have an agent, they said that I didn't really need one, but suggested I consult a lawyer to review any paperwork. My parents' next-door neighbor is a lawyer and was able to put me in touch with someone.

Of course, they don't want to publish my book "as is" — I've been assigned an editor to work on what they said should be relatively minor updates. For once, I'm _glad_ that I majored in English at UNF. The wheels are most definitely turning, and I could be a real, published author by the summer.

It's _almost_ as awesome as being able to call the fucking hot man walking across the sand toward me my boyfriend.

* * *

The next day, Edward and I decide to lounge by the pool instead of the beach. I swear I was still finding sand in every little nook and cranny of my body this morning, even though I spent most of my time on a beach towel. I brought a book to read today, but people-watching is more fun. As is drinking strawberry daiquiris.

"Gracias," I smile at the waitress as she brings me a second ice-cold drink. After she's walked away, I turn to Edward, who's reclining on the lounger next to me, looking like a movie star thanks to his hotter-than-hot shades. "What do you think of her? Our waitress?"

"She's cute," he shrugs. "She kinda looks like you, only with darker skin." _Finally!_ I've asked his opinion on a half dozen women so far and she's the first one about whom he's had anything positive to say. Sometimes I swear I'm the _only_ female he's attracted to. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing…

"I'm gonna go for a swim," Edward says, removing his sunglasses as he stands. I watch him closely as he saunters to the edge of the stunning infinity pool, still amazed at the fact that he's _mine_. I see practically every female clustered around the pool turn to watch him as he gracefully sits on the edge, then slides off into the water.

I feel the same flash of jealousy I felt yesterday when I wasn't the only one interested in his paddle boarding skills. My boyfriend is dazzling; there's no denying it. And once you tear your eyes away from his face and look below the neck, he's tall, lean and toned. I totally understand why they all stare.

Edward swims a few sort-of laps across the free-form pool, then climbs out. As he walks back to me, the sun shines off of the water droplets on his skin, making him appear to sparkle. Jesus, he's beautiful.

"Hey!" I yelp as Edward reaches my chair and proceeds to shake his wet hair all over me like a dog. He giggles as he sits down, brushing his hair back then reaching for his shades again.

"You should go in, Bella. The water's awesome."

"I like it here," I shrug, reaching for my bottle of sunscreen. I spread a fresh coat over my legs and arms, then do my stomach. I notice Edward's eyes watching me intently as I spread the lotion over my neck and cleavage.

"Did you want to do that part?" I ask with a wink. I giggle at the embarrassed look on his face, knowing that he got caught ogling me. At least I'm subtle about it. Leaning over, I hand Edward the bottle then turn so my back is facing him. "Could you get my back?"

"Sure," he replies. "Though I don't think you really need any on your back if you're just going to sit here all day."

"There are spaces between the slats on the chair," I disagree.

Edward squirts a large dollop in his hand then brings both hands to my shoulders, gradually working his way downward to the top of my bikini pants. God, I love the feel of his hands on me. When he's finished, he sets the bottle on the small table between our chairs and l get myself comfortable again.

About fifteen minutes later, I notice a tall, tanned man with curly black hair, wearing a tiny red bathing suit, walking along the edge of the pool next to an equally attractive bikini-clad female. They make quite the show of spreading beach towels on a couple of lounge chairs about 20 feet away from us. As he finally turns around, I notice that his chest is so bare and shiny, he _must _wax it.

"Just your type, eh, Edward?" I ask, subtly nodding in their direction.

"Other than the fact that he's straight, yeah."

"He looks barely post-pubescent," I grumble. Even my high school boyfriend had a few hairs on his chest.

"From the outline you can see under that Speedo, he's mostly definitely past puberty."

I whip my head around, staring at Edward. "You were ogling his dick?" I whisper-yell.

"Like you weren't," he protests. "The guy's wearing a bright red Speedo; he wants us to look."

I shake my head. "How come you don't wear a Speedo? Isn't it sort of a gay thing to want to… show off your package?"

He laughs out loud. "Maybe I don't want to show off," he replies with a wink. "Or intimidate other guys."

"Oh my God," I moan, reaching over to slap his arm as he giggles, trying to get away from me.

Just then, our waitress comes by to see if we need new drinks, so we try to act like adults long enough to order them. As she steps over to the next couple, Edward picks up the bottle of sunscreen and I gawk unashamedly as he spreads it over his delectable body.

"Want me to get your back?" I offer.

"Sure," he nods. I try not to drool as I brush my hands over his broad shoulders. His skin feels so warm under my hands.

Settling in again, I notice a very sexy, tanned blond man climbing out of the pool. Clearly most of the people here have been in Mexico for several days already to be this tan. Or else they all visited spray tan places before their vacations.

"How about him?" I ask.

"Eh," Edward shrugs. "Too much hair on his chest."

"Really? I think he's sexy."

"I don't have that much hair on my chest," he replies with a slight pout.

"Relax, Edward. You're perfect." He scowls at me, but it's the truth.

Our waitress drops off fresh drinks and I take a sip of the frozen concoction — mudslide this time. It's like a law or something that you have to drink things like this in Tropical locations.

"Jesus, Bella," Edward moans. "I swear to God you do that on purpose."

"Huh?"

"The way you hollow your cheeks as you suck on the straw. It's the exact same expression you get when you suck my cock."

I burst out laughing, reaching over to slap his arm.

"Stop abusing me!" he whines.

"Stop thinking with your lower head," I retort.

"Newsflash: all guys do that." He rolls his eyes and I slap him again. Then I stand up, kicking his legs apart so that I can sit between them. I take my hat off and lean back into his hard chest, smelling the coconut-scented sunscreen. Edward wraps his arms around me, kissing the side of my neck, and I close my eyes in contentment.

When I open my eyes again, I notice a dark-haired man across the pool tear his eyes away from us. For the next few minutes, I repeatedly notice him glancing our way. Something about him makes me think he's looking at my boyfriend, not at me.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Mmmm," he mumbles, skimming his hands up and down my arms.

"How's your gaydar?"

"What?" he chuckles.

"Do you see that guy across the pool, wearing the Hawaiian shirt?"

"Yeah." More kisses on the side of my neck.

"Do you think he's gay?" I ask, tilting my head to give him better access.

"Yep."

I turn around, looking into his eyes. "You're pretty sure, huh? Didn't even hesitate."

"Well, he winked at me earlier," he shrugs.

My mouth falls open. "He _winked_ at you? Even though you're obviously with me? What a jackass!"

Edward reaches out, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. "And how many guys have you been eyeing today?"

"But I haven't _winked_ at them!"

"You're cute when you're jealous," he chuckles. Shoving his chest, I turn back around.

Fifteen minutes later, my three drinks have gotten to me and I need the restroom badly. "I'll be right back." I kiss my boyfriend possessively before leaving him alone with all of these sharks.

As I wash my hands, I stare in the mirror above the sink. It looks like my face is getting a bit pink. My own fault for taking off my hat, I guess. I remind myself to put a little sunscreen on my face when I get back to Edward.

As I round the pool deck, I look toward my sexy man only to find that my view is obscured by a Hawaiian shirt. I can't believe it! I leave for just a few minutes and he's trying to move in on my territory? What fucking nerve!

As I get closer, the jackass nods at Edward then walks away. He even _walks_ like an asshole.

As I sit on my own lounge chair and pick up my hat, I'm pretty sure steam is coming out of my ears. "I can't believe the nerve of that guy," I complain though gritted teeth. "He came over here to hit on you?"

"He wasn't hitting on me, Bella."

"Like hell," I grumble.

"He wasn't hitting on _me_," he stresses. "He was hitting on both of us."

"What?" I screech.

"He's bi," Edward replies with a shrug. "He said, and I quote, 'I'm dying to fuck the two of you.'"

My eyebrows shoot all the way up my forehead. "You're saying he wanted a threesome with us?"

"Yep," he nods.

"What… what did you tell him?" I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

He shrugs. "I told him thanks, but no thanks. I don't share."

Well, that's a relief, but… he didn't say _he_ didn't want to do it. "But would you want…?"

Edward crooks his finger, until I move to sit on the side of his lounger. "Baby, I don't want anyone but you," he says softly. "I thought you knew that."

"I… I did, but…" He places his finger under my chin, gently forcing me to look him in the eye.

"I'm very happy with you and your girl parts, Bella. I don't need anything or anyone else." I give him a small smile and he brushes his lips across mine once, twice, three times. "I love you."

* * *

After spending the afternoon at the pool, Edward and I shower then have dinner in one of the resort's six restaurants before heading out to one of their five bars.

The bass line is thumping and the intoxicated crowd is having a blast. This place is as much fun as a gay bar, and I've got the hottest guy in the place.

The moment the thought comes to me, my mind flashes back to earlier and the bisexual guy who was interested in a threesome. Edward said he'd wanted to fuck us both, and I wonder… Edward told me when we first got together that he was a top, but I know he likes to try new things in bed. Has he ever…? I mean, I'm still designating my ass as exit only, but if he's been on the receiving end, so to speak, maybe… maybe I could trust him with _some_ of the things he wants to try with me.

Edward and I drink and dance until my feet are killing me and I'm just this side of drunk. He's such a great dancer that I always lose myself in watching him and lose track of time.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" he whispers, pulling me close.

"Ready for bed already, old man?"

"Not to sleep," he growls.

I let him lead me outside into the warm, humid air. Holding hands, we walk along the stone pathway back to our room.

"Edward?" I begin tentatively.

"Hmmm…?"

"What that guy wanted at the pool this afternoon—"

"Bella," he interrupts, "I told you. I'm not interested in him. Or anyone else."

"No, I know, I just… you said he wanted to fuck us both, and I just wondered… have you ever… done that?"

He stops, turning to look at me. "You mean did I ever bottom?" I nod. "Once," he shrugs. "A long time ago."

A long time ago? That means… "With Riley?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah," he sighs. I look at him questioningly, not sure what exactly I want to ask, until he goes on. "Some guys prefer to top, some bottom, and some are happy either way — versatile. Riley was one of those, a switch-hitter, if you will.

"By the time we'd been dating for over a year, he was kind of missing being on top, so he talked me into trying it."

"And you didn't like it?" I deduce. "I mean, if you only did it once…"

He shrugs. "Riley knew what he was doing, so it wasn't painful or anything that I'm sure you're imagining," he chuckles. "I got off. But… no, I didn't like it. I don't like to be vulnerable. I just… prefer to be in control."

"Really," I deadpan. "I'd never guess that you're a control freak." I immediately picture the way his CD and DVD collections are meticulously organized alphabetically by year of release. And don't get me started on his pantry…

"I know, I know… I may have a teensy tendency to be a little OCD and want to control things in most facets of my life," he laughs.

"But you enjoy it when I'm on top when we have sex," I point out.

"Not the same thing at all." He shakes his head. "I could easily flip our positions whenever I want, because you're so much smaller than I am. Even when you're on top, I'm ultimately the one in control, since I could take it back anytime I want. I'm not vulnerable."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Pretty hypocritical of you then to pressure me into something you didn't even like, despite you having the necessary equipment to actually get something out of it — unlike me."

Edward is quiet, and between the pathway lights and the moonlight, I see the horrorstruck expression on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.

He reaches up, tearing at his hair with both hands. "I… I pressure you?" he whispers. "God, Bella, I… I never meant to pressure you. I… fuck!"

He walks a few feet away, tears at his hair again, then comes back toward me. "Baby, I am so, so sorry. I never… I thought we could share… I won't ask you again," he vows, shaking his head. "I'm ok whether we do or don't. I swear to you. You can _always_ veto anything I want to try with you if you're not comfortable. I'll still love you, no matter what."

Reaching for Edward, I place my hands on his cheeks. "_I'm_ sorry, for the bad choice of words. I never felt like you were trying to bully me into something I didn't want. You just… didn't give up after I said no the first time. But I'm not mad at you. I was even thinking of letting you… experiment a bit, with your tongue and finger — your _smallest_ finger — at least." I don't miss the way his eyes light up.

"You're not mad?" I shake my head. "You know I'd never hurt you."

"I know." I smile at him, taking his hand again as we walk back to our room.

I dig the keycard out of my purse and open the door, stepping inside. Edward takes my purse and sets it on the desk, then he's all over me — kissing me while his hands roam everywhere they can reach. I twine my arms around his neck to pull his mouth down closer, but instead he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist.

Walking us over to the bed, he carefully sets me down, then pulls my sundress up and over my head. I gasp in pain.

"You got a little too much sun," he says quietly, trailing his fingers just over the top of my breasts. I look down and sure enough, I didn't quite rub the sunscreen all the way over to under my arms. Dammit. "Does it hurt?"

I shake my head. "Only when my dress rubbed against it. Just feels a little warm."

"Your nose is pink, too." He leans down and kisses the tip of my nose, smiling at me.

"Let's see if there's anywhere else," he suggests, reaching behind me to unhook my bra — as if the sun could get through my bikini top. "Lie down." He pulls my panties down slowly, then motions for me to turn over and I hurriedly flip onto my stomach.

"Oops," he says, brushing his fingers along my lower back. "Looks like I goofed and didn't quite get to the top of your bikini bottoms." And then he sucks in a breath. "The backs of your knees are really pink." He touches them and I yelp in pain. How on earth did I not notice that when I was dancing?

"Don't move," he orders, getting off the bed. He's back a minute later with a bottle of aloe lotion from my suitcase. "Hmmmm…" And then he disappears again, into the bathroom.

When he comes back, he's holding two large bath towels. He spreads one out next to me on the bed, then motions for me to lie on it while he spreads the other next to it. "This will cool your skin," he says, picking up the bottle.

Starting at my ankles, he spreads the aloe all over my legs, rubbing it in gently. I close my eyes, relax and enjoy his talented hands. I hiss a little when he reaches the worst of the sunburn on the back of my knees, though.

"I don't think my ass got any sun," I chuckle when he continues his journey up my body. Soon enough, he's gently rubbing the lotion into the part that _did_ get some sun.

"Turn over," he directs when he's finally reached my shoulders.

I carefully flip over and I can't help noticing the obvious tent in Edward's khaki shorts. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable out of those?" I suggest, reaching for the button. I start tugging his shorts down and spot the tip of his cock peeking over the top of his boxer briefs. I sit up, licking my lips, and he groans.

"Do you know you lick your lips every time you see my dick?"

I shrug, feeling my face flame as I begin pushing up his white polo shirt. I run my fingers lightly down his chest, noticing his breathing pick up. Suddenly, he pulls away. "This is supposed to be about you," he scolds me.

Smirking, I lie back down, letting my hair fan out beneath me. Edward picks up the bottle of aloe again and squeezes some onto my calves as he kneels between my legs. This time I keep my eyes open, watching the intent look on his face as he massages the lotion into my skin. And, well, my eyes might dart down to his hard-on occasionally.

When he reaches the tops of my thighs, he continues on up my body, spreading his hands over my hips without ever really coming close to where I really need them. He presses lightly on my stomach as he rubs in the lotion, then suddenly he gets up, moving to sit by my head. I look up at him questioningly, but he just smiles, squeezing more aloe onto his hands.

"Oh, that's nice," I groan, closing my eyes in pleasure as he massages my shoulders. His large hands completely cover my breasts as he kneads them gently. I moan as he plays with my nipples, pulling them and twisting them gently.

He leans forward then, trailing his right hand down my torso while his left remains in place on my breast. "Spread your legs," he directs quietly. I don't hesitate for a second, more than ready for this to continue.

He teases me at first, spreading his fingers to brush up and down my outer lips. Finally he moves his middle finger to brush over my clit and begins drawing small circles around it. "Want more?" he asks.

At my nod, he moves his finger down and gently pushes it inside me, quickly following it with a second one. I cry out when he begins moving them in and out rapidly. His thumb puts pressure on my clit and I'm clamping down on his fingers in no time. Edward slows his movements then, letting me ride out my orgasm before pulling his hand away and wiping it on one of the towels beneath me.

He moves back between my legs, then motions for me to flip over onto my stomach. I feel a little like jelly from the amazing massage, but I manage. "Get up on your knees a little." I feel his hands caressing my ass and take a deep breath. "I won't hurt you," he reminds me. "Ok?"

"Ok," I nod. And then I feel his cock, hard as steel, brushing along the crack in my ass. "It's just the side, not the tip," he says when I tense a little. I will myself to relax as he moves his cock to stroke through my wetness, then back again to my ass crack. "Is that ok?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah." And it is. It feels good, what he's doing; not so scary. Then his cock is back on my pussy again, rubbing deliciously against me.

"Do you want me inside you?"

"Mmmm…" I'm almost delirious with want. I feel the round head of his cock at my entrance and then he inches his way inside until his hips are flush against mine. I brace myself for him to start moving, but instead he pulls out, lightly slapping my ass before flopping down beside me.

"Changed my mind; I want you on top so I can see your face," he says, tugging at my hand. I climb over him, then slowly lower myself until we're once again joined. He pulls me down until he can kiss me, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back greedily as I begin moving above him. Edward's hands caress my back then move to my ass. When I feel his finger lightly circling my back door, I'm too lost in the feel of the rest of him to care.

"Good girl," he smiles, moving his hands to my hips to help me sit up. I circle my hips faster and faster as he thrusts up to meet me. "You look so amazing right now."

"Fuck, Edward… I'm gonna…" My orgasm ripples through me and I can't speak. I collapse onto his chest and he flips me over, lifting my leg over his hip as he begins pounding into me. "Oh God…"

He groans loudly as he comes, dropping his head to my shoulder. Slowly I bring my hands up to stroke his sweaty back until finally he pulls out, rolling to his back.

"I don't want to move," I groan, reluctantly getting up to go clean up in the bathroom. When I come back I feel the breeze from the open door to our balcony. Edward must've gotten up to do that; the sound of the waterfall in the garden outside is perfect to fall asleep to.

I pull a nightie out of my suitcase and shrug it over my head then climb into bed beside Edward. Throwing an arm over me, he tugs me back into his body. "You put clothes on," he whines.

"Yeah," I yawn. "I'm tired. I don't want you waking me up at 4am when your dick can't control itself around a naked woman."

He chuckles, kissing my shoulder. "You were ok with the way I touched you?"

"Yeah," I tell him honestly.

"I'll take it slow," he promises. "And I know what your hard limits are. I'll never ask you to change them."

"I trust you." And I find that I really do.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, they've reached some sort of compromise in the great back door debate, though it doesn't seem to be what all of you are pushing for!

What do you think of Edward's revelation about his own back door experiences?

Bonus question! What's your pick for Tropical locations — Pina colada, strawberry daiquiri, or mudslide? Or something else?


	11. Big Daddy

**Author Note:** A lot of reviewers didn't get the last chapter. Since only about 2.5% of you review, I have no idea how many others misunderstood as well. You might want to re-read it, substituting Alice for Edward (minus the drooling over him) to understand the spirit of the chapter (the title "Footloose" was a hint).

Though we didn't see it, this is the type of friendship that Bella and Edward had for four years — a couple of gossiping "girlfriends." She isn't questioning Edward out of some insecurity and she certainly isn't judging him! A few months earlier, she was uncomfortable with his attraction to men, but she's gotten to a place where she understands and accepts that it's a part of him. He's a guy, so I'm pretty sure he's already looking at the "people" by the pool the same way a straight guy would be eyeing the women.

Bella is fine with their conversation until she sees the guy hitting on Edward. Even then, her first reaction is anger, the same as it would be if she saw a woman hitting on him, when he is obviously taken. She doesn't freak until she hears what the guy wanted and starts to worry that that might be something Edward is interested in. Yes, he's been endlessly patient with her insecurities, and yes, he may reach his breaking point sometime in the future.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 11 — Big Daddy_

_February 2014_

I really hate being a waitress on Valentine's Day. Instead of having a nice romantic evening with my boyfriend, I'm stuck at work, where every table is filled for hours on end.

Not to mention, my feet are killing me.

Edward suggested that I could quit my job, but no, I'm not ready to do that. At least not until my book is released and we see if I can actually make a living as an author. I know he's got money; he could and would take care of me if I wanted to stay home and write all day, but I just… can't. I'd feel like I was taking advantage of him.

Since we couldn't spend the day together, I made a lasagna before work and left it in the fridge with instructions for Edward on how to heat it up. I hope he can handle it; I'm not really sure he knows how to work the timer on the oven. I also left him his favorite dessert — a homemade cheesecake with cherry topping.

I bought his other gift last week at Victoria's Secret and have been hiding it in my room, waiting for tonight. I personally couldn't care less if I wear a lacy negligee or an old t-shirt to bed. But I love the way Edward's eyes light up when he sees me wear something lacy and sexy.

At long last, it's 10pm and my shift is over. As I pull into the driveway, I can't see any lights on in the house at all, which is kind of strange. It's Valentine's Day, not to mention a Friday night — didn't Edward wait up for me?

After parking in the garage, I open the door to the house and it's really _is_ pitch black inside. Just as I reach for the switch, a light turns on in the living room.

Well, not just any light, but a freakin' disco ball, emitting flashes of light that pulse around the room. I must jump a mile in the air. I curse, taking a deep breath to calm myself down.

"Edward?" I call tentatively. I take a tiny step in the direction of the living room, and then another. When I reach the room, a white figure appears in the bedroom doorway. He touches the dimmer switch on the wall and the overhead light comes on.

"What the _fuck_ are you wearing, Edward?" He looks like he's in a… a toga! Like something out of _Animal House_ — or better yet, a God from Ancient Greece. Except for what looks like a pillowcase wrapped around his head.

"I am not Edward; I'm a genie, here to grant you three wishes." I can't help it; I burst out laughing.

"Come," he says, beckoning me with his finger, "Step inside my crystal ball." I enter the room, meeting him in front of the coffee table, where he's already set two large throw pillows on the floor. He takes my hand, leading me down to my knees on one of the pillows.

I watch amused as he reaches over to turn off the disco ball sitting on the coffee table then picks up a round object. On second glance, I recognize it as a candleholder from my bathroom.

"I know you majored in English," he begins, "But I'm sure you took a Journalism class?" I nod. "Do you remember the Five Ws?"

"Who, what, where, when, why and how," I recite.

"Good," he smiles. He picks up six Post-It notes from the table, and as he folds them into fourths, I can see that one of the Five Ws is written on each of them.

"You can pick out three things," he explains, holding up the candleholder. "Each one is tied to a wish that you will be granted."

"Why can't I have all six?" I ask cheekily, still trying not to laugh at his outfit.

"Because genies give three wishes… duh!" He smirks at me, and I so want to smack him. Sitting back on my heels, I reach in and pick out one piece of paper. I unfold it and show him what it says: HOW.

"How is for House—"

"Um, I hate to break it to you, but there's no 'w' in house."

"Hush, Ms. English Major," he growls. "If you really want to, we can ask my mom to come down here and help redecorate our beach house."

My eyes widen; that is so not what I was expecting. I look around the living room, and it really does need some help. I've always thought that Edward's house was so… sterile. And masculine. Not that I want to put up frilly curtains or get a flowered sofa that would make my grandmother proud… just something softer.

"I'd love that," I smile.

"Good," he nods. "Now I know she's super busy and probably won't actually be able to come to Jacksonville for a few months, but we could send her some photos so she can get some ideas, anyway. As you can see, I have no sense of design, so it's all up to you."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" I ask. "Aren't interior designers either female or gay men?"

"Clearly, I missed that gene," he smirks. "I got the fashion one instead."

"Good point."

"Ok, pick another wish," he says, holding up the makeshift bowl for me. The next paper reads: WHAT.

"Oooh, a fun one," Edward says with a wink. "What would you like to do with me?"

"_Do_ with you?"

"What's your sexual fantasy, Bella?" he replies in a low voice. "If you could have me any way you want me."

I lick my lips, staring into his twinkling green eyes. "Anything I want?"

"I suppose I should put _some_ limits on you, but you know I don't have many," he chuckles. Ha, I do know that.

"Do I get to live out this fantasy tonight?" I was kind of wanting to give Edward whatever _he_ wanted tonight… within reason, of course.

"If you want," he shrugs. "Depends on if it involves any props we don't have, I guess."

_Props_? Well, now, he's just given me an idea…

"I want to control you," I state boldly.

Edward rolls his eyes. "Didn't we establish that that's not really possible? I'm too strong."

"Not if I'm allowed to buy furry handcuffs." I try not to smile as his eyes widen.

"So you want to handcuff me to the bed and have your wicked way with me?"

"Pretty much," I nod. I'm amazed that he's not saying 'no' right away. In fact, he kinda sounds excited by the prospect.

"Ok," he nods. "We can go to a sex shop sometime this weekend and get handcuffs. Not _pink_ furry ones though, please."

"You really will try anything once," I chuckle. "Hey, can I peg you with a strap-on?"

"Fuck, no!" he answers with no hesitation.

"Why not?" I pout. Not that I really _want_ to; I just wanted to see what he'd say.

"Because nothing larger than a finger has been in there in nine years and you don't know what you're doing. Not a good combination," he shudders.

"_Fine_." I stick my tongue out at him. "I'll settle for just the handcuffs."

Edward shakes his head, smiling. "That's not at all what I thought you were going to suggest. And no, I'm not going to tell you what I thought and put any ideas in your head. Now, get your last wish."

He holds up the candleholder again and I pick out one more piece of paper, unfolding it eagerly: WHERE.

"Where would you like to go next weekend?" he asks. "You can pick anywhere in the world, as long as we won't spend the entire four days getting there and back."

"What?"

"The Monday after next is President's Day, so the office is closed. I convinced the other doctors to cover my appointments the following day, if they need to, and I cleared your time off with your boss. I know we just went to Cancun last month, but this one is up to you. Where would _you_ want to go, if you could go anywhere?"

My brow furrows. "You mean I could suggest a weekend in, say, Paris and you'd take me?"

"Yep," he nods. "Anywhere."

He really is the most amazing man. And suddenly I know where I want to go, what I want to do. Even if it is a lot less exciting than Paris.

"I want to go to Forks to see my dad," I tell him quietly. "It's been almost two years since I've seen him, but also… I want the two men in my life to meet each other."

Edward leans forward, taking my face in his hands gently and placing a soft kiss on my lips. "I want to meet him, too," he assures me. "I'll start looking for flights to Seattle in the morning, ok?"

I nod, trying not to cry, but I can't help the tear that escapes.

"What's wrong?" he whispers, kissing my tear away.

"You're just… so, so amazing. I love you so much, Edward. I feel like my gift to you can't compare."

"I don't know," he begins with a shrug, "That cheesecake you made me was fucking awesome."

"But—"

"I know, baby. I know what you mean," he says, kissing me again. "But none of that matters to me. All that matters is that you're here, and you love me. A lot of women would be too freaked out by my past to take this chance, and I'm so thankful that you did."

"How could I not?" I whisper. "I love you… even if you do look ridiculous right now."

Laughing, he helps me to my feet, then hugs me tightly.

"There is a little more to your gift," I tell him.

"Yeah?" His eyes light up like a child at Christmas.

"Wait for me in your bedroom and I'll be there soon, ok?"

"Don't make me wait too long," he growls.

"I won't."

I hurry to my room, shedding my work clothes. I still think I smell like fish, so I decide to take a quick shower. When I'm finished, I dig the bright pink bag with my new negligee and matching panties out of the drawer. I really hope Edward likes it.

When I reach Edward's bedroom, I'm astonished by the sight in front of me. He's lit candles all over the room, with rose petals scattered on the bed. I know it's totally cheesy, but I _love_ it. I step into the room, making my way over to the bed where I finger one of the rose petals.

I hear footsteps behind me, and then strong arms wrap around my waist. Edward places a soft kiss on my shoulder, then fingers the sheer material of my negligee.

"That's new, isn't it?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Model for me," he orders, letting me go. I twirl around, not at all surprised to find him naked and hard.

"Very nice," he smiles, leading me to sit on the bed.

Sitting beside me, Edward brushes his hands up my sides until he reaches my breasts. He pulls one bra cup down then attaches his lips to my breast. His hands work their way back down and under the skirt, until he's grasping the sides of the matching panties and tugging them down.

"Up," he directs, moments before he lifts the negligee up and over my head. He sucks on the neglected breast, then lays me down. Covering my body with his own, he kisses me deeply.

"Can I try something?" he whispers. I'm sure it involves my ass somehow, or he wouldn't ask, but this is for him. I nod my acceptance. "Flip over and get up to your knees."

I hurriedly obey, keeping my chest on the bed with my ass up in the air. I feel his arms wrap around my hips then gasp when his tongue circles my entrance. In moments, he's fucking me with his tongue and it feels so good. "Edward," I moan. "That's good, don't stop."

He does stop though, licking all over my slit before coming back to tongue-fuck me again. I'm writhing, trying to ride his face before he pulls away. He kisses the middle of my right ass cheek, then the left, then the right again. It takes a few times for me to realize that he's inching closer to the center each time.

Edward gently pulls my cheeks apart, placing a soft kiss over the crack before his tongue darts out, licking all around. I have to admit, it's not _bad_ to let him do this. He's still not kissing me again though — even if I did just shower.

"Are you ready for me to fuck you now?" he asks.

"Yes," I moan. Seconds later, he's on his knees behind me, slowly pushing inside. "Edward? Don't be gentle."

He pulls out slowly, then slams back inside. "Like that?" he asks. Instead of waiting for my answer, he does it again… and again. I curse and moan like a porn star as he holds on to my hip with one hand and shoulder with the other, pounding into me over and over.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," I chant, as he hits exactly the right spot inside me. I'm coming in no time, feeling my walls clamp down on him.

"Oh fuck," he groans, pulling out. Moments later I feel hot streams of cum all over my ass and lower back. I collapse down to the bed, feeling a little bit like I got hit by a truck… though I loved every second of it.

"Don't move, I'll be back," he says quietly before I feel the mattress move underneath me as he gets up. I'm nearly asleep before he comes back, carefully cleaning me up with a wet rag before tucking me under the covers.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers as he climbs into bed behind me. "I brushed my teeth, so am I allowed to kiss you goodnight?" In answer, I roll over slightly, letting him place a soft kiss on my lips.

* * *

Edward is able to find the two of us a flight to Seattle, changing planes in Dallas, which leaves just before 7pm on Friday night. We land at midnight in Seattle, which is of course 3am back home in Jacksonville. Given the time, we get a room at an airport hotel for the night, hoping to be on the road early enough to be in Forks by lunchtime.

"Wow," Edward remarks when we pass the 'Welcome to Forks' sign. "I knew this was a small town, but…"

"Remember I didn't grow up here," I remind him. "I was only here for my last year and a half of high school. Well, and when I was a baby."

I give Edward directions to my father's house and it's not long before we're pulling into the gravel driveway. He gets our bags out of the trunk and my father is standing in the doorway before we've made it onto the porch.

"Dad, this is Edward Cullen… my boyfriend," I announce proudly. "Edward, this is my father, Police Chief Charles Swan."

"It's nice to meet you, Sir," Edward says, dropping the bags long enough to shake my father's hand firmly. I can see the way my dad, ever the cop, eyes him up and down.

"Well, come on in," he says, stepping back. I have a chance to scrutinize my dad's appearance as I step inside, and I'm relieved to see that he looks good — so much better than the last time I saw him in the hospital after his heart attack and bypass surgery.

"Let me show you where to put the bags," I tell Edward, heading to my old bedroom upstairs. I never discussed sleeping arrangements with my dad when I told him we were coming. I mean, he could still try to make Edward sleep on the couch, but I plan to stand up to him and point out that I'm 27 years old if he brings it up. Though I'm not having sex with Edward, not while my dad is just down the hall.

"So this is your room," Edward muses as he sets our bags on the floor.

"This is it. My dad had the wife of one of his friends on the Rez pick out the bedding and stuff before I came to live here." And it's still the same 10 years later.

Downstairs, I make a quick perusal of the pantry and fridge, then grab my father's jacket from the closet, and he follows us out to our rental car so the three of us can go to lunch. I'm ashamed to admit that I miss the Forks' diner's food.

"Welcome to the most happening place in Forks," I tell Edward as we step inside the diner. We grab a booth, picking up our menus.

"What's good here?" Edward asks.

"Pretty much everything," I reply, smiling.

"What are you having, Sir?" I almost want to laugh at his easy ability to suck up to the Chief.

"I was thinking of a bacon cheeseburger." I clear my throat loudly, and my dad sighs. "Maybe a Cobb salad."

"That's better," I nod. I end up ordering a club sandwich — a bacon cheeseburger does sound good, but it would be cruel to eat that in front of my dad. Edward gets a Reuben… which is totally disgusting. Sauerkraut, yuck.

"So my daughter says you're a doctor."

"Um, yes," Edward replies, clearing his throat. "I'm a pediatrician."

"You're through with med school?"

"I graduated almost two years ago," he nods. "I'm working in a practice with three other doctors now, and I do occasional shifts at the hospital where I did my residency."

"Are you from Jacksonville originally?" Dad asks.

"No, Sir, I was born and raised in Chicago. I went to Northwestern for my undergrad, then Johns Hopkins for med school."

"Impressive," my dad replies, stroking his moustache.

"Edward is very smart, Dad."

"Well, so are you, Bells." I smile, feeling myself blush. "How's your book going?"

"Still in editing, but we're targeting a release date in May."

"So you two have known each other for a while? It seems like Bells has talked about you for ages. And I know I have you to thank for her being able to visit me a couple of years back."

_Bells_, Edward mouths to me, a little smirk on his face. Oh, he is _not_ calling me that.

"We met about four and a half years ago, Dad. But we were just friends for a long time."

"Too shy to make your move?" he asks Edward, eyebrow raised.

"Something like that," he mumbles, quickly reaching for his Coke to take a drink.

"Leave him alone, Dad," I come to my boyfriend's rescue.

Dad is supposed to get plenty of exercise, so after we've eaten, we walk around "downtown" Forks — such as it is — showing Edward the town, since it's a pretty nice day for February.

After our walk, we get the car and drive to the Thriftway so I can buy everything I need to make dinner the next couple of days, as well as what I plan to freeze for Dad to heat up later. I need to be sure that he's eating right — at least while I'm in a position to do something about it.

The two guys end up bonding over college basketball on TV, leaving me alone in the kitchen to cook, which is fine. They'll just be in the way anyway. I make a casserole and low-fat chicken enchiladas to freeze, along with roast chicken for tonight.

"This is good, Bells," Dad says. "Be a lot easier to eat healthy if I could cook like this."

"Maybe you should take cooking lessons," I reply to my father's scowl.

"So, Edwin—"

"It's _Edward_, Dad," I correct him, giving my father the evil eye — I'm sure he's just trying to be a pain in the ass.

"Edward then, do you like fishing?" I roll my eyes; my dad loves to go fishing with his friend, Billy Black.

"It's been awhile, but I used to like it. My dad would take my brother and me out fishing in our boat when we were little. Well, before we got a larger boat and went sailing instead."

"You want to go fishing with me tomorrow morning? We can leave around six o'clock, be back before lunch."

Edward looks at me, but I immediately shake my head. "Oh no, I do not fish. Nothing could make me touch a worm."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Edward mumbles under his breath. I kick him under the table.

It's settled then — Dad and Edward will go fishing without me and Edward will text me when they leave the lake, so that I can have brunch ready when they get back.

After dinner, the three of us retire to the living room to watch TV until Dad decides he'd better get some sleep if they're going to leave the house at 6am. Since there's only one bathroom upstairs, we decide to wait until he's gone to his room before heading up.

"I'm sorry," I whisper once I hear the door close upstairs. "I hope Dad behaves himself tomorrow."

"It's fine, Bella," he assures me. "I know he's just looking out for you."

"Still… you'll tell me if he gives you a hard time, right?"

Edward rolls his eyes. "I'm a big boy. Besides, how do you know I didn't want to talk to him?"

Once Dad is in bed, we go upstairs for our nightly routine, then get settled in my bed. At least it's not a twin bed, but it's a lot smaller than we're used to. I put my cold feet on Edward's legs to warm them up, making him yelp.

"Jesus… warn a guy." He hugs me tighter so I know he's not really mad.

"Don't you dare wake me up before you and Dad head out tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma'am. I love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

True to his word, Edward lets me sleep in on Sunday morning. I mean, I know my body is probably still on Eastern time, so it's not _that_ early. But it's the principle of the thing — if I don't have to get up, then why should I?

I've got a huge brunch — complete with egg substitutes and turkey bacon for my father — waiting when the guys get back around 11am. Edward proudly shows off the fish that he caught. My dad also caught a couple, so I promise to cook them up for dinner tonight.

After we've eaten, my dad says he wants to take a nap for a couple hours, so I decide to show Edward the Pacific Ocean.

"Welcome to LaPush," I announce as we enter the Quileute Indian reservation on the coast. It's a tiny town with dozens of small homes. "My dad has several good buddies living here."

I park near the cliffs leading down to First Beach. "Wow," Edward remarks as we stand on the edge looking down at the ocean.

"The teenage boys of the tribe like to go cliff diving from here. Would you ever do that?"

"Sure, I'd give it a try," he shrugs.

"Of course you would." I roll my eyes. "They never talked me into it. Come on, let's use the path to go down."

The average high temperature here is only about 50 degrees in February, but it's unseasonably warm today. Still, I'm thankful for the heavier coat I bought in an after-Christmas sale before leaving Chicago.

"It's beautiful here," Edward says, picking up a stone to throw into the ocean.

"Yeah… I came here a lot when I lived in Forks." I don't really want to get into the _why_ with Edward though.

"So, um," I begin slowly, "How did it go with Dad this morning? I noticed you came back calling him 'Charlie.'"

"Fine," he shrugs. "Your dad's a good guy, and he loves you very much."

"He didn't threaten you, did he?"

"No," he chuckles. "There were no threats."

"He didn't, like, ask you what your intentions are toward me?"

"Maybe he didn't have to," Edward shrugs, a secret grin on his face. I narrow my eyes at him, but he makes the universal symbol for zipping his lips. I'm sure I can seduce it out of him later.

We walk from one end of the beach to the other, then start back up the path. As we drive back through town, I see a couple of people outside in their yards, and of course they all stare at the strange car. But then I see Jacob Black out in his front yard, and, much as this mortifies me… it would be rude not to stop and say 'hi.'

Trying not to sigh, I pull the car over and shut off the engine. Edward looks over at me and I nod toward Jacob. "An old friend," I tell him softly.

"Bells!" Jacob yells when I hop out of the car. He rushes up to me, hugging me tightly. "It's so good to see you! Your dad didn't tell my dad that you were coming."

"It was kind of a last minute trip," I explain. "Um, Jacob, this is my boyfriend, Edward Cullen."

I don't miss the way Jacob sizes him up as they shake hands. "Hello," Edward greets him… not exactly warmly.

"Edward, this is Jacob Black. His father, Billy, is my dad's best friend and usual fishing partner. My dad took Edward fishing this morning," I explain to Jacob.

"Good to meet you," Jacob smiles… all of his pretty white teeth showing. "You're still living in Florida, right? Near your mom?"

"Yeah, Edward and I live about 15 minutes away from Mom and Phil." I don't miss the look Jacob gives me at the subtle reveal that Edward and I live together.

"You look good, Bella," Jacob says softly. "Florida obviously agrees with you."

Just then, the door to the house opens and a small black-haired boy runs out, heading straight for Jacob. "Hey, buddy." He picks up the boy, hugging him tightly.

"This is my son, Will. Will, say hi to Bella and Edward." Instead, the little boy buries his head in his dad's shoulder. "Sorry, I guess he's shy," Jacob laughs.

"How old is he now?"

"Fourteen months," he says proudly. "And Leah's due in June with number two."

"Wow, congratulations! My dad hadn't told me you were expecting again."

"Thanks. Um, I'd better get Will back inside for his nap before Leah kills me. It was good to see you, Bells. And nice to meet you, Edward."

"Likewise," he nods with a smile.

Will does manage to wave goodbye as Jacob takes him back inside. We climb into the car and are on the road out of town before Edward asks the inevitable question.

"So… you and Jacob?"

I feel myself turning several shades of red. "Me and Jacob," I nod.

"Is he the high school boyfriend who was as clueless in bed as I was?"

I can't help laughing as I nod. "The very same."

"He was… your first?" Edward asks tentatively.

"Yeah… and then when I was leaving for college, we just decided that we were better off as friends," I shrug. "He got married to a woman from the reservation about four years ago."

"Hmmm…" Edward says.

"Now what does _that_ mean?"

"I didn't like the way he hugged you," he huffs.

"Edward, he's married — with children. We're old friends; it was just a friendly hug." Protesting on the outside, but inside… I'm thinking that I really like seeing this possessive side of Edward.

"Still… is it wrong that I want to ask you to stop on the side of the road?"

"For what?" I ask, brow furrowed.

"So I can remind you who your boyfriend is."

"You want me to stop for a quickie?!" I screech, slamming on the brakes.

"I have a caveman need to mark you as mine," he shrugs innocently. My jaw drops as I stare at him. As intriguing as that is…

"Jake and I usually ended up having sex in the backseat of his car. I seriously doubt reminding me of that is what you're aiming for." I totally want to laugh at the look on his face. "Figure out a way to get rid of my dad when we get home and you can have your quickie."

"Yes, Ma'am," he grins. I love a man with a mission.

* * *

**A/N:** If you didn't read my Author Note at the beginning, please go back and do so.

The next chapter is also February, but it's distinct enough from this one that it'll post next Monday, as scheduled.

So, Bella is making the most of her three wishes. What do you think of her request to handcuff Edward? And yes, that'll be coming up in the next chapter. ;)

What do you think Edward and Charlie talked about?


	12. Risky Business

**Author Note:** Most reviewers think Edward asked Charlie for Bella's hand in marriage — or at least advised her father of his long-term intentions.

Warning: This chapter is pretty much smut.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 12 — Risky Business_

'Operation: Get Rid of the Chief' is a total failure.

Dad is awake and watching sports on TV when we get home. He engages Edward in a long conversation about the upcoming baseball Spring Training, then asks if Edward knows how to play chess.

Of course he does.

I wasn't interested in learning during the year and a half or so that I lived in Forks, but Dad plays chess with the other cops down at the station quite often on slow days. Which is pretty much all the time; I mean — this is Forks.

I do my best to follow the game, and Edward tries to explain to me what he's doing, but I'm lost. And when my boyfriend finally wins, the look Dad gives him lets me know that he's earned his full respect.

When they start a second game, I excuse myself to go make dinner, deciding to pan sear the fish despite my dad's best attempt at convincing me to fry them. He knows me well and already has the filets cleaned and ready for me to cook.

After dinner, Dad shoos me up to my room to look for one of my old board games, hoping there's something that I can play too.

And that's how I spend the rest of evening kicking the two guys' asses in Yahtzee and Monopoly.

A steady rain is pelting the roof when I crawl into bed around 11pm, while Edward is still brushing his teeth. I remember many nights just like this when I lived here. I can't say that I really miss Forks, though I do miss my father. There's literally nothing to do in this town except hang out at the diner… or go fishing, I suppose.

I hear the door creak open as Edward comes to bed. The minute he's under the covers, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly.

"Did you know you make one very sexy real estate baron?" he whispers. "It's kinda hot when you boss me around, making me pay rent."

"Ah, so maybe when we get back home, you'll let me try out those handcuffs we bought last weekend?" I reply, trailing my hand over his warm chest. "No more excuses?"

"I wasn't making excuses," he argues. "I really did have to get up early all week, so we didn't have time."

"Uh-huh. I think you're chicken." It's not like we had _no_ sex all week.

"I'm not chicken," he retorts a little louder.

Pulling him closer, I take his lips in mine, letting my tongue slide against his. "I won't hurt you," I whisper.

If I could see better in the darkened room, I'm sure I'd see him rolling his eyes. I'm well aware that _I'm_ the chicken — when it comes to the idea of anal sex, anyway.

"I'm not afraid of you," he whispers. "You're right that I don't like giving up control. I don't like to feel… defenseless. But I trust you. I love you."

"I love you more." Before he can protest, I kiss him again, slow and gentle. There's no hurry, no rush to get naked — I flat out refuse to have sex with my dad so close. He has a cop's superhuman hearing.

Of course at some point, Edward rolls me onto my back and his long, lean body covers mine. I let him trace my ear with his tongue, suck on my neck, lick along my collarbone…

"Edward," I protest breathily when I feel his fingertips touch the bare skin of my stomach beneath my pajama top. "This can't go anywhere."

He groans, dropping his forehead into my cleavage. I bring my hands up, stroking along his back then massaging his scalp.

He lifts his head to look at me. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," I reply sheepishly.

Groaning again, he rolls off of me then pulls me against his body. "Goodnight, baby."

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Dad and Edward and I drive separately to Port Angeles. We show Edward the harbor and visit several touristy shops before eating an early dinner at Bella Italia, where my dad took me after my high school graduation.

Edward and I have a flight leaving at 8:50pm, so after we've eaten, we say goodbye to Dad and drive toward the Kingston-Edmonds ferry that will take us to Seattle, and then down to SeaTac for our flight. We've got a nearly six-hour flight to Miami, so I do my best to at least take a catnap on the plane. After a two-hour layover, we arrive in Jacksonville at 9am on Tuesday morning, only slightly worse for wear.

Since I don't have to be at the restaurant until noon, I crawl into bed to nap for a little while before I need to get ready. Edward, meanwhile, showers as soon as we get home so that he can go to work.

"Why don't you stay home and cuddle with me?" I ask with a yawn from his nice, cozy bed.

"Because once our receptionist found out what time my flight got in, she scheduled me to see a patient at 11 o'clock. Believe me, I'd rather stay in bed with you all day." He leans over to kiss me goodbye then pulls the covers up a little more to tuck me in.

Once Edward is gone, I close my eyes, smiling a little at my sweet man taking care of me. Maybe tonight, he'll let me show him my appreciation.

* * *

Jet lag fucking sucks.

Even with only a three-hour time difference, the lack of sleep due to the red-eye flight means that both Edward and I pretty much crash as soon as I get home from the restaurant every night. Even staying up to wait for me seems like a challenge for him.

I work an earlier shift on Saturday and get home in time to make dinner for the two of us. I decide to make my lasagna again, since it's Edward's favorite meal.

"Are you almost back to normal?" I ask as we sit down to eat.

"I think so. Good thing we didn't try to go to Paris."

"No kidding. I don't know how people who travel a lot manage." I shake my head.

"If they travel for work, they probably get seats in Business Class," he muses, turning back to his meal.

"So…" I clear my throat, gathering my courage to broach the subject. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous _now_. When Edward looks up at me, I continue, "Are you feeling up to a little bit of experimenting tonight…?"

"You mean with the handcuffs?" he grins. Oh, he so has me figured out.

"Yeah," I nod, feeling my face flame.

"Is that what the lasagna was for? To try to soften me up so I'd go along with it?" he chuckles.

"Oh, I don't want you _soft_," I reply suggestively.

"Fine," he replies with an eye roll, "It was to seduce me?"

"Make you more agreeable, I think."

"Bella, I'm totally on board with this. I don't need extra enticement."

"So that's a yes?" I ask optimistically.

"Can I let dinner settle first?" he jokes.

Laughing, I nod and stand up to clear the table, put the leftovers away, and add the dishes to the dishwasher. When I've finished, I join Edward in the living room, where we find a movie to watch on Netflix.

As the movie plays, I cuddle up closer and closer to Edward's side, until I'm practically sitting in his lap. His arm is around me and it feels like old times, like _us_. We're still exactly who we were before the L-word was ever said and before we saw each other naked. I've gained a boyfriend, but for maybe the first time, it's totally clear to me that I still have my best friend.

I don't even realize I'm crying until I feel Edward's hand under my chin, turning me to face him. "What's wrong, baby?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head, brushing away tracks of tears. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's right. I just love you so much, and I'm grateful that you're still my best friend, and…" I stop to sniffle and he kisses my lips gently.

"I know what you mean. Do you want to watch the rest of the movie, or…?"

"Or. Definitely or."

Grinning, Edward stands then pulls me to my feet. He starts to lead me toward his bedroom, but then stops. "You're the leader," he says, looking at me with nothing but love and trust in his eyes.

And so I take the lead, holding Edward's hand as we walk into the room together. I stop him in front of the bed then start pushing up the bottom of his t-shirt. "We should probably get this out of the way before I _can't_ get it off."

"Good thinking," he smiles. "What's next, Mistress?"

"I'm not…" I shake my head. "Lie down and I'll get the handcuffs." I reach into the bag still sitting on the bedside table and pull them out, setting the key on the table. Edward vetoed the hot pink ones we saw at the store, and eventually we settled on black.

I lick my lips — God, Edward has me paranoid every time I do that — when I see the way he's sprawled out on the bed, arms already up above his head. I kneel beside him and carefully snap one of the cuffs around his left wrist, then wind the other side through the metal vines on the headboard and place it around his right wrist.

"Are you really trapped?"

In answer, Edward twists his arms, moving them around a little before nodding. "I can't escape," he confirms.

Leaning over, I trail one hand slowly down his chest. Now that I've got him here, I have no idea what exactly I plan to do. It's not like I've had some lifelong fantasy about dominating my man; on the contrary, my stories always contain dominant _men_.

Suggesting handcuffs as my fantasy gift was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. As I thought more about my request, I realized that subconsciously, I wanted to see if he'd do it — if he'd let himself be more vulnerable with me than he was comfortable being with the men that he's dated. I wanted to know if he could trust me more. And now that he's proven to me that he does, I don't want to mess up.

"Since I can't touch you, how about you give me something to look at?" he asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Like what?"

"How about that lacy little number you wore on Valentine's Day?"

"You took that off of me so fast, I didn't think you liked it," I reply cheekily.

He grins. "That means I really liked it."

"Ok," I nod, rushing out of the room. I shed my clothes quickly then find the short, dark blue negligee and matching panties in the drawer, adjusting the top to make my boobs look bigger.

"Very nice," Edward whistles when I step back into his bedroom. I climb onto the bed and straddle him, sitting across his upper thighs. He hisses when I lightly touch his stomach, brushing my fingers across his happy trail. I love the defined 'V' of his hip bones.

I splay both hands across his stomach, then stroke upward over his six-pack abs. "I love your body," I tell him quietly.

"I love yours, too," he replies with a grin, making my heart soar.

I lean forward as I continue moving my hands over his pecs, his collarbone, his neck… until I'm burying them in his soft hair. Edward lifts his head, lips puckered, as he tries to capture mine for a kiss. Smiling, I oblige him, touching my lips to his.

For several minutes, we continue to trade soft kisses, mixed with sensual deep kisses. I can feel his erection underneath me and can't resist grinding down on it. He must be uncomfortable in his jeans, so I reluctantly pull away from his oh-so-amazing lips, then slide back down until I'm sitting on his thighs again.

I open the button fly of his jeans, then palm his hard cock through his underwear. I can't believe he's _mine_. And I can do whatever I want with him. But this is for him as much as it is for me. I want him to enjoy this, too — to know that his trust in me isn't misplaced.

"So… um, you know how you're so interested in my ass?" I ask tentatively.

"Yeah," he replies, a wary look on his face.

"Is that… is that something you've, um, received as well?"

His brows furrow as he stares up at me. "I told you I bottomed once."

"I know, I mean… the other stuff you want to try with me."

"Ah, like with my fingers and tongue." I nod, staring down at my hands. "Yeah, of course." I swallow hard at the confirmation of what I'd already long suspected.

"Is it… something you enjoy?"

"A well-placed finger during a blowjob can be fucking fantastic," he answers.

A well-placed…? Oh. _Ohhhh_. "Is that something you want me to do?"

"I _want_ you to do whatever you're comfortable with, Bella," he replies gently.

"But you'd enjoy it if I…?" Ugh, just the thought of sticking my finger… nope. Just nope.

"Yes, I'd enjoy it. Very much. But I know how squeamish you are," he chuckles. "Maybe someday you can work up to being comfortable using toys on me."

"Toys?" I ask in shock. "I thought you said only a finger had been up there."

"I said nothing larger than a finger. Maybe a slight exaggeration," he adds with a wink. "Someday. Just do whatever _you_ want to do."

Nodding, I tug Edward's jeans off then pull down his dark gray boxers briefs, revealing his very hard — and very spectacular — cock. Kneeling between his thighs, I stroke it with my fist a couple of times, then lick from base to tip. I suck just the head into my mouth, teasing the ridge under the head with my tongue as he whimpers. Finally I plunge most of his length into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks as I suck hard.

As I continue to lave his cock with my tongue, I roll his balls in my hand, knowing he seems to like that. He's moaning and mumbling low curses much more quickly than he usually does, and I wonder if he's turned on by being handcuffed to the bed.

I want to make this last longer, so I pull his cock out of my mouth, moving my fist up and down a few times. Holding his cock out of the way, I lick one of his balls then suck it slowly into my mouth.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You know, if you're ok with that, maybe you'd be ok with touching my perineum?"

I release his sack from my mouth, staring up at him. "Your what?"

"The skin between my balls and your no-go zone. It's pretty sensitive… almost as good as the well-placed finger," he winks.

Tentatively, I reach my hand down, brushing one of my knuckles against the surprisingly smooth skin. And he nearly bucks off the bed.

"Sorry… been awhile." He grins sheepishly at me.

I take the tip of his cock back in my mouth, continuing to brush my knuckle against him. It's a little awkward though, so I turn my wrist and lightly scrape him with my fingernail instead.

"Oh fuck," he cries out, thrusting further into my mouth. Hmmm — he really likes that. I can do this. I keep my fingernail there as I take in his length again and again, and I can almost sense the upcoming eruption.

"Bella… fuck… gonna—" He can't even manage to get the words out before I feel him coming in spurts down my throat. I swallow quickly then pull my mouth off with a pop.

"You like that, huh?" I tease. He hums, apparently too blissed out to answer me. His eyes are closed, so I take the golden opportunity to stare at him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing calms.

And then I grab his sides and tickle.

"You're wasting your time, baby," he chuckles. "You know I'm not ticklish like you are."

"Dammit," I swear, sliding up his body. He tilts his chin up again and I give him what he wants, brushing my tongue against his.

"Let me see your beautiful tits," he orders. Some part of me recognizes that _I_ am the one who's supposed to be in charge here, but I always love the attention that Edward pays to my breasts. Denying him would be denying myself, right? Watching his eyes the entire time, I pull one side of the bra top down, then the other. I love the look on his face as he stares at me. "Come here."

I crawl closer then bend down until Edward is able to take one of my breasts in his mouth. He licks and sucks until my nipple is hard and aching. He can't quite reach the other one, so I move a little, letting him give that nipple the same treatment.

"Now I want to lick your pussy."

My eyes widen at his dirty talk. I don't hear it all that often, but when I do… fuck! But given our positions, does he want me to… sit on his face? I mean, I suppose that's what a real Mistress would demand; it's just nothing I've quite done before.

"Come up here, Bella," he says in the sexiest fucking voice I've ever heard. Again a little voice inside me understands that I'm letting him call the shots, but my boyfriend wants to go down on me — am I actually supposed to say _no_? I hurriedly remove my panties then scramble closer until I'm poised over his mouth. After the first lick from his talented tongue, I hold on to the headboard for support.

As Edward expertly works me over, I try my best to stay upright and not, like, smother him or something. Because that would be bad. He alternates between long licks, sucking my clit, tongue-fucking me. Goddamn, he's good at oral sex. And to think, all of his experience — with women, anyway — is with _me_.

I start raising myself off of him when it gets to be almost too much, but he lifts his head until his tongue is right back where he wants it to be.

"Shit, shit, shit," I chant as I feel my orgasm get closer. And when it hits, it's all I can do not to kill my boyfriend. He brings me down gently and then I scoot backwards, sitting on his chest and falling back.

I feel something _move_ under my head and when I can function again, I open my eyes and lift my head. "Well, hello there," I laugh as his cock twitches again. When I realize what _Edward_ has a view of, I quickly scramble to sit up and move back until I'm sitting just above his cock.

"Are your wrists ok?" Shit, I should've asked that earlier. I'd be a horrible dominatrix.

"They're fine, but my dick is a little lonely."

Rolling my eyes, I get up to my knees then take his cock in my hand and brush it through my wetness. I could totally tease him and just use his body to get myself off, but I'm not that cruel — even if it _is_ something a real Mistress would do. Positioning it at my entrance, I slide down onto his cock inch by inch. I rock back and forth a few times, then place my hands on Edward's thighs and lean back, giving him a great view of his cock moving in and out of me.

"So fucking hot," he mumbles and I smile. I'm startled when he slides his feet until his knees are up in the air behind me. I let go of his thighs and let my back rest along them as I continue to ride him.

"That's it, ride me baby," he moans.

Oh. My. God. He's hitting exactly the right spot inside me and I know I'm going to come again in record time. "Fuck," I moan as waves of pleasure crash over me. I have to stop moving for a few seconds, then lean forward until I can kiss those lips I love so much.

I continue to slide back and forth over his cock as we kiss, and then I'm startled when Edward thrusts up into me. "I thought I was supposed to be in control?" I manage to ask between pants.

He thrusts again, grinning at me. "You were moving too slowly." I narrow my eyes at him, but speed up my pace. He continues to meet all of my downward thrusts and I'm still so sensitive from earlier that I think I might actually come again.

When he tilts his chin toward me again, I tangle my tongue with his while I pull on his hair.

"Bella, fuck," he moans, driving himself even harder into me. We come together and it almost feels like a religious experience. I collapse onto his chest, hugging him to me.

I expect to feel Edward's arms around me, but then I realize he can't move them. I don't really want to get up, but I force myself to reach over onto the bedside table for the key to the handcuffs. I sit up as I unlock the cuffs, then bring his wrists to my mouth one at a time, kissing them gently. I turn them every which way, making sure there's no damage.

"I'm fine, Bella," he says softly. "Well, except I could really use a shower," he adds with a laugh.

"How about a bath?" A soak in a hot bubble bath sounds amazing right now.

"Is this bath a couples thing?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

"We'll see," I reply, climbing off the bed. _Ow_. Even handcuffed to the bed, he managed to leave his mark. Not to mention, straddling him for so long is hard on my thighs and knees.

I help Edward off the bed and he pulls me close, hugging me tightly. "Were the handcuffs ok?" I ask cautiously.

He pulls back until he can look me in the eye. "I missed touching you, but otherwise, I have no complaints," he smiles. "Did _you_ like it?"

"I had three amazing orgasms, but… I really like your hands on me, too. It's not something I'd want to do all the time, but… maybe occasionally?" And next time, I need to figure out a way to really be the one in control. If I gag him so he can't ask for anything and try to call the shots, I lose access to the lips and tongue I love so much. Such a conundrum.

He nods, smiling as he leads me to the bathroom, where his huge tub awaits. I can't fucking wait.

* * *

**A/N:** So, uh, Edward is a total failure at letting himself be controlled. But he did put himself in a vulnerable position by letting Bella handcuff him to the bed — and that's really all she wanted.

What would _you_ do with a handcuffed Edward?

Yes, Bella forgot to bug Edward about what he and Charlie discussed.


	13. Ghost

**Author Note:** Why is everyone afraid to review lemony chapters? Last chapter had the fewest reviews since Chapter 2, which most everyone read as a one-shot. :(

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 13 — Ghost_

_March 2014_

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," I kiss Edward's pouty lips as he walks into the kitchen late on a Sunday morning in the middle of March.

"Hey, I got home at three o'clock," he pouts. I smile, kissing him again. I'm proud of him for still taking the occasional hospital shift, even at odd hours.

"I got bagels at Panera earlier," I tell him, pointing toward the bag on the table. "And the coffee is fresh; I started a pot when I heard the shower turn on."

"You're too good to me," he smiles, pouring himself a cup of coffee then taking a seat at the table.

"Oh, and I got the Sunday paper from the machine outside Panera. I could see they had an article on _Wicked_." It seems like ages ago now that I bought tickets to the popular musical as a Christmas gift for Edward, but the six-night run at a local theater finally starts this coming Tuesday.

"Thanks," he replies absently as he spreads cream cheese on his favorite cinnamon crunch bagel.

I join Edward at the table and fix my own coffee — which I can still only drink with plenty of cream and sugar. I don't know when I'll ever become an "adult" in my coffee tastes.

Edward grabs the newspaper while he eats and I try not to giggle when I see he's gone straight for the Sports section. I think his love for sports is the most heterosexual part of him — besides his talents in bed.

"So, what did you plan to do today?" I ask after a few minutes. "Do you want to come shopping with me? I need a more business-like outfit to meet with my publishers in a couple of weeks, and I don't want to look like an old lady."

I take a sip of my coffee as I wait for Edward's reply — only it doesn't come.

"Edward?"

Silence.

I wave my hand in front of where he's staring down at the folded newspaper on the table. "Yoo-hoo! Edward!"

He looks up at me with a startled expression, almost like he had forgotten that I'm in the room.

"What's wrong?" I whisper in alarm.

"D-did you read this? About the show?"

"Yeah. I read it," I reply, brow furrowed. He stares at me and I feel like I'm missing something important.

Suddenly he starts tearing at his hair and muttering to himself, but all I can make out are the words "last name."

"Edward, what's wrong?" I ask again.

He shoves the paper across the table to me, pointing toward one of the paragraphs. I begin to read out loud, "_But as we know, things can't remain hunky dory in the Land of Oz forever. When roguish prince Fiyero (played by Riley Biers) arrives on campus, he seems a perfect narcissistic match for Glinda; however, the quiet, misunderstood Elphaba catches his eye as well._"

I look up from the paper. "I don't get it, Edward — what am I supposed to be noticing?"

"Fiyero," he replies quietly.

I stare at the paper in front of me again. Fiyero — he's the male romantic lead, but I knew that already. And he's played by Riley Biers…

Wait. Riley… Biers? Is he… _Edward's_ Riley? I don't remember him ever mentioning his first boyfriend's last name before.

Oh. _Last name_… that's what he was muttering about.

"_Your_ Riley?" I ask softly. He nods, and I feel like I need to throw up. My boyfriend's ex — the one he told me he loved, the one he broke up with not because they had a falling out but because they were each following their own dreams — is going to be in Jacksonville for the next week.

Worse, we have tickets to the Friday night production of _Wicked_ at the Moran Theater. Edward's going to see his first love again for the first time in, what, nine years?

"Have…" I clear my throat. "Have you seen Riley since you two broke up?"

"No, not since just after graduation, when he left for New York."

"Have you… spoken to him?" I'd ask about Facebook, but I know Edward hates social media.

He shakes his head. "We decided it would be better to have a clean break," he replies quietly. I'm not sure how I feel about that answer… relieved maybe? They haven't kept in touch; that's good, right? I rush to think of something innocuous to say.

"It-it seems like moving to New York City was a good move for him. I mean — he's landed a pretty major part."

"Yeah…"

I take the last sip of my coffee, but I nearly gag on it. Shit.

"Are you all right?" Edward asks. I stare up at him, unsure what to say. There are so many emotions swirling around inside me right now that I can hardly think straight. He narrows his eyes, staring back at me, and I wonder if my confusion and fear are as clear on my face as I think they are.

And then suddenly he's up on his feet, walking around the table to sit down on the chair next to me. He tugs at my hand until I practically fall into his lap, and then his arms form tight bands around me. He rocks me back and forth for a minute, then kisses the top of my head.

"There's no reason to be jealous, baby," he whispers. "Riley was my past. You are my present, and I hope that you'll be my future."

"But… but the way you reacted—"

"I was just shocked," he interrupts. "Not because I thought he wouldn't be successful, but I just never expected that he'd be coming _here_, that I'd ever see him again."

I turn my head until I can stare into Edward's beautiful green eyes. "Do you still love him?" I whisper, holding my breath as I wait for his answer. Forget jealousy — a new, intense desire to protect what's mine is starting to form. Edward is _mine_, and Riley can't fucking have him.

Smiling tenderly at me, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'll always love him." My breath hitches and I swear my heart skips a beat. "He's a wonderful person," he continues, "And he taught me to be true to myself. But I'm not _in love_ with him anymore. That's reserved only for you," he adds, tapping me on the nose.

That should make me feel better, but I'm not out of the woods until Riley is far, far away from Jacksonville… hell, from the entire state of Florida. And all of the surrounding states, just for good measure.

"You know, you'd probably really like him."

_Probably really like him?_ Is he talking hypothetically, or does he actually mean for us to meet somehow? Oh God…

"Do you… want to try to see him while he's in town?" I ask. "I mean, outside of the show?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I haven't really had time to process it yet. It's been almost nine years since we last saw each other. I've for sure changed a lot, and I'm sure he has too. Some things may be better left in the past."

I nod, knowing that I'll go along with whatever Edward wants, even if it kills me inside — because I love him. I really, really want him to leave Riley in the past where he belongs, though. What if I can't compete with him? Edward can say that I'm everything he needs, but I'll never be a man. There must be _something_ that his boyfriends could give him that I can't — and I don't just mean in the bedroom.

Edward places his finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "I wish I could read your mind right now," he whispers. "Whatever you're thinking, _stop it_. Nothing is going to change the fact that _you_ are my life now. Tell me you believe that," he pleads.

"I believe that." I only hope the tremble in my voice doesn't betray my lie.

* * *

"Fuck!"

I toss my brush onto the counter, ready to rip my hair out for refusing to go the way I want it to. I have to look good tonight; I _have_ to.

I will myself to calm down. I need to think about this rationally. Taking a deep breath, I reach into the bottom drawer and pull out my curling iron. While it's heating up, I double check my make-up, deciding to add a little more eye shadow. Not too much though; I know Edward prefers women to not look like they're trying too hard.

I'm wearing the black dress that I wore that night in Fort Lauderdale when he and I first kissed… first made love. He must like the dress on me, right? I'm even wearing the same bra and panties. I make a mental note to find the same pair of shoes in the closet.

This week seems to have sped by at the same time that it's dragged on. I've been dreading tonight ever since I learned that Edward's ex-boyfriend is a key member of the _Wicked_ cast. The last time I asked him about it, Edward said that he still wasn't sure whether or not he planned to seek Riley out after the show. I'm hoping that I can make myself look sexy enough that he'll decide to take me home and ravish me immediately after the curtain call.

All week, I've felt this desperate need to show Edward how much I love him. I talked a couple of my coworkers into letting me trade shifts so that I'd be home to make him dinner each night. And then I've pretty much seduced him while we sat and watched TV together on the couch. Hell, I even let him lick my ass again, though for the life of me I don't know why he enjoys doing that. I can sort of get the appeal of receiving though.

When my curling iron is hot, I try to tame the problem section of hair, then calmly brush and style it. I pick up the bottle of expensive French perfume from Edward's mother and place a few dabs at my pulse points.

"Swan, are you about ready?" Edward yells from somewhere else in the house.

"Be out in a minute," I call. I take one last look in the mirror, then head to my room and hunt around in the closet for the uncomfortable but sexy heels. I also grab a wrap to keep my bare arms warm, since it's still chilly in the evenings.

When I step into the living room, I'm speechless at the sight of my boyfriend. He's wearing charcoal gray slacks and a stylish dress shirt in a pale green that shows off the color of his eyes. His hair is as untamed as always, and I just want to throw him to the ground and spend the rest of the night naked.

But did he dress up like that for me… or for Riley?

"You look beautiful, Bella," he says, pulling me into his arms and hugging me tightly. He kisses me tenderly before stepping away. "Ready to get some sushi?"

"Ready," I nod, hoping I can keep food down tonight.

On the way out, I pick up our theater tickets from the kitchen counter and slip them into the side of my purse. Dammit — I guess I could've forgotten those and we would've had a legitimate reason not to go.

Edward turns on Sirius XM in his Corvette, challenging me to a "guess the song" game on 90's on 9 while we drive to the restaurant. I win — thanks to my preteen crush on Justin Timberlake — but I can't bring myself to get too excited.

I remove the wrap as we're seated in a booth, and I can't help noticing the way Edward's eyes look me up and down. "I remember that dress," he says in a rough voice. I smile, beyond pleased. "You were so beautiful that night… I could hardly keep my hands off of you while we sat there bored out of our minds during the endless speeches," he chuckles.

"If I recall, we amused ourselves pretty well with our drinking game."

"Yeah," he laughs. "You were a cute drunk."

"I was just… tipsy," I protest with a smile.

The sushi is delicious as always, and after my cup of sake, I actually start to relax a little bit. Maybe tonight will work out just fine. Maybe Riley has gotten fat and hairy in the last nine years.

No, I know that's unlikely to be true, or he wouldn't have landed this role. Shit.

After we've finished our dinner, Edward helps me with my wrap, then pulls me close for a sweet kiss. "I love you," he reminds me, squeezing my hand tightly as he leads me to the car.

The Moran Theater is near the St. Johns River, not far from the sushi restaurant. We park the car and the butterflies start having a party in my stomach again as we wait in line to go inside. Our seats are a little bit off to the side but only about 20 rows back. The minute we're seated, I take Edward's hand in mine, leaning over to kiss him.

I've read the Wikipedia plot synopsis for the musical, so I know there are several songs before Fiyero shows up. As the lights dim, I try to forget all about ex-boyfriends and just enjoy the spectacular production.

When Fiyero makes his first appearance, I unabashedly stare at him. Riley is a good-looking man with light brown hair, perhaps less feminine in appearance than the men I've seen with Edward. I try to peek at my boyfriend out of the corner of my eye, but I can't tell what he's thinking by the neutral expression on his face.

Riley has a very nice singing voice, I note as he sings his theme song, _Dancing Through Life_. I'm dismayed to realize he's actually quite good. Or should I be happy that he's talented? If he's starring on Broadway, he's far, far away from Jacksonville.

Am I being too mean? I'm not wishing evil on the guy; just stay the hell away from my man.

Act I ends with Elphaba's signature song, _Defying Gravity_, and the lights go up. I turn to Edward, not sure what I should say. Should I be honest and tell him that I was impressed by Riley? Or should I wait to see what he has to say?

"Did you want something to drink?" he asks, tenderly brushing a finger along my cheek.

I shake my head. "No, I'm good."

"I'm gonna get a bottle of water, ok?" I nod, watching as he stands and makes his way to the aisle. When he's out of sight, I pull out my purse and check my make-up. Once I'm satisfied that I look as good as I can, I sit there wringing my hands until Edward comes back. Shit, maybe I never should've let him out of my sight?

"Sorry, there was a pretty long line," he apologizes as he re-takes his seat. "I guess that's to be expected for a sold-out show."

"Yeah." I clear my throat. "So what did you think of Riley?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," he smiles. "He was always a great actor, but he couldn't dance like that when I knew him."

"He's very talented," I agree. "He's a good singer."

"He is," Edward nods. "He was always a huge ham, loved to sing karaoke."

I feel like my stomach has dropped to my feet. "Did you team up with him?" _Like you do with me_, I add silently.

"Nah… I went to college close to home, remember? I was completely paranoid that a friend of the family might see me and end up telling my parents they'd seen me out with a man who was obviously gay. I'd go out places with Ri, but I preferred to stay more in the background. Pathetic, wasn't I?"

"You weren't pathetic," I assure him, leaning over to kiss him tenderly. Edward kisses me back, but before we can make a spectacle of ourselves, the lights dim for Act II.

Throughout the second act, I try my best to ignore the fact that Riley is playing Fiyero and just enjoy the show. Even I have to admit that he's fantastic in his duet with Elphaba, _As Long As You're Mine_. And when it's revealed that Elphaba isn't dead and the two of them can live happily ever after, I sigh like a lovesick female.

Or maybe I'm just hormonal.

The entire audience stands and applauds during the curtain call. All of the leads were amazing, and Riley aside, I'm glad I was able to secure tickets for the show.

I hold tightly to Edward's hand so that I don't lose him in the crowd as we make our way out of the theater. It's gotten cooler in the last three hours, and Edward pulls me into his side when he sees me rubbing my arms.

"So…" He clears his throat. "I think… I think I'd like to try to say hello," he says quietly, looking at me closely for my reaction. I try not to give him one.

"Just wait around outside like we did at that one show at House of Blues down in Orlando?"

"No," he chuckles. "There's kind of an upscale bar… lounge… a couple of blocks over, where the performers like to hang out sometimes after shows."

"How do you know that?" I ask, brow furrowed.

"Remember my friend Paul? The one who moved to Miami last year?"

"The one with the tattoo sleeves?" I ask… which is probably the nicest way I could describe Paul.

"Yeah, him," he nods. "Paul had a thing for dancers, so he was the one who figured out how to meet the performers from touring productions."

"Paul had a thing for anything with a dick, if I recall," I snark, immediately slapping my hand over my mouth.

I'm relieved when Edward laughs. "He wasn't very discriminating," he agrees with a smirk.

"So… you want to go to this lounge and see if Riley shows up?"

He nods. "At the least, we can have a couple of drinks." For some reason, the confirmation that he wants me to come along puts my mind at ease… a teensy, tiny bit, anyway.

I nod my agreement, because I said I'd defer to whatever Edward wanted.

"Can you walk a few blocks in those fuck-me heels?" he asks, looking down at my feet.

I'll probably pay for this in the morning, but I again nod my acquiescence.

When we reach the lounge, it's obvious that we've beaten everyone from the production over here — if they're coming at all. We take seats at a small booth and order drinks from the waitress.

"Do you think he'll show?" I ask.

He shrugs. "The Riley I knew was always up for a night out."

"What did you think, seeing him again after all this time?" I ask timidly.

"It was… strange," he begins quietly. "In some ways, I could still see the guy I knew, underneath the fancy costumes. But in other ways… it was like watching a stranger. Fiyero's mannerisms weren't Riley's."

Our waitress returns with my vodka and cranberry and Edward's beer, and I thank her, swirling the ice cubes before taking a small sip.

"Will you be disappointed if he doesn't show?"

"I… yeah, I would. I'd like to know that he's happy — that he believes we made the right decision as much as I do."

I look up at him sharply, and he holds my gaze. "Because I am happy, Bella. With you." He reaches across the table to take my hand. "I love you."

Before I can come up with an appropriate response, there's a loud murmur and I notice several people enter the bar — the performers are here. Edward turns around, checking out the newcomers along with me.

"There," he says, nodding toward the back of a man wearing a white shirt and dark vest.

I'm going to be sick.

* * *

**A/N:** Dun-dun-dun… This is the only evil cliffie in the entire fic, so try not to kill the writer, eh? How do you think this meeting is going to go?

Credit for the _Wicked_ review to the STLToday website. Those who live in Jacksonville know that the national tour was not actually playing at the Moran Theater in March. Call it artistic license — I wanted to use a musical that I'd actually seen myself.

I'll be away on a business trip at the beginning of next week, so the next posting dates will be **Friday** and the following **Wednesday** after I get home. Or — my fic "Patience" has 704 reviews right now. If we can beat that, I'll post the next chapter on **Thursday**.


	14. Ghostbusters

**Author Note:** Wow, 80 reviews for the last chapter! We blew away the review goal, so you get this chapter a day early. You guys rule!

Most readers understand Bella's insecurities and would feel the same way in her position, but there are some who think she should just grow up and get over it already. And while a lot of readers understand why Edward wants to see Riley, some are not very happy with him.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 14 — Ghostbusters_

Another man comes up behind Riley, slapping him on the back, and he turns around to see who it is. He's looking directly at us, and I know the exact moment he spots Edward, because his handsome face goes white as a sheet. It's like some freakin' Hollywood movie… long-lost lovers seeing each other again across a crowded room.

Gag me.

"Oh fuck," I mumble under my breath as Riley says something to the guy and starts walking in our direction. And then I drain the rest of my drink.

Edward stands as he nears our booth and I watch on in horror as Riley throws his arms around my boyfriend in a hug — and not the usual one-armed man-hug either.

"Edward, oh my God! What are you doing here in Jacksonville?" he practically squeals when they finally pull apart.

"I did my residency downtown at Baptist Medical Center," Edward answers.

"Shut! Up!"

I laugh despite myself and Edward turns around — finally remembering I'm here, grr. "Ri, there's someone I'd like you to meet. This is my girlfriend, Bella Swan."

"Get out!" Riley cries, eyes wide and mouth gaping. "Is that your real name?"

"It is," I nod. "Well, short for Isabella."

Edward puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly, then continues, "Bella, this is my… first boyfriend, Riley Biers."

Riley takes my hand, bringing it to his mouth to place a light kiss on the back of it. "Delighted to meet you," he says, smiling.

"Um, would you like to join us for a while?" Edward asks, taking a seat beside me. I immediately place my hand on his thigh possessively. _Mine._

"God," Riley begins as he sits across from us, "So nice for a guy's ego to learn that he sent his ex back to the other team."

My mouth falls open as I stare at him in shock. I'm disheartened to notice that Riley is even better looking up close than I'd first thought. His eyes are sort of a light hazel, an unusual shade. I also notice his black eyeliner, wondering if that's a leftover from being on stage or just Riley.

"Ri," Edward chokes out, "I… I dated a number of men after you and I split up."

"No shit?"

"No shit," he chuckles, nodding.

"How long have you two been together?"

"A little over six months now," Edward answers.

"But we've been good friends since he moved to Jacksonville, over four years ago," I add. I don't want to marginalize our relationship. _Technically_, we've been boyfriend and girlfriend for only six months, but our relationship doesn't feel that new.

"You said you came here to do your residency?" At Edward's nod, he continues, "So are you a real live doctor now?"

"I am," Edward nods. "I finished school about two years ago, and I'm working in a practice now with three other doctors."

"Pediatrics, right? Or did you finally decide to go for the moolah and go into surgery?"

"Pediatrics," he confirms.

"And what about you, Bella?" Riley asks. "What do you do?"

"She's a writer," Edward speaks up before I realize that he's addressed me. "In fact, her first book is going to be published in a couple of months."

"Yeah? I'll be sure to buy it! Tell me you're publishing under that fuck-awesome name."

"No," I chuckle. "I decided to use my initials — I.M. Swan."

"Friend me on Facebook and let me know when it's out."

"I will." _Like hell._

Our waitress interrupts to see if we need anything else, and I eagerly order another drink. I'm a little surprised when Riley asks for a Guinness; somehow, I didn't think that would be his type of drink. And then I feel bad for stereotyping him.

"So were you two at _Wicked_ tonight, or is this even more of a coincidence?" Riley asks.

"We were," Edward confirms. "Bella got me the tickets for Christmas, and we read an article in Sunday's paper that mentioned you. Congratulations! You've done really well for yourself; this is a great role."

"Freaking _finally_," Riley says dramatically. "I wasn't as ready for the big time as I'd thought when I first got to the Big Apple. I spent years waiting tables so I could afford to eat. I'd go on casting calls and hear that I could act, and that I had a good singing voice, but I needed to project my voice better to reach the people sitting up in the balcony. And absolutely _everyone_ told me to take dance lessons."

Edward snickers. "I mentioned to Bella earlier that your dancing has improved since I last saw you."

"Oh, let's call a spade a spade… I used to dance like a drunk uncle at a wedding," Riley laughs.

"Anyway, I finally started getting some smaller parts in off-Broadway productions. And I thought I'd made it the first time I was hired for an ensemble on Broadway. I worked my way up to secondary roles in some smaller shows and then early last year, I joined the ensemble for the Broadway production of _Wicked_. They made me understudy to Fiyero after a few months, but I only went on once when the lead actor came down with a horrible case of food poisoning."

"How did you get the part in the national tour?" I ask as I pick up my fresh drink.

"When several of the Broadway leads, including the actor who starred as Fiyero, announced that they would be leaving early this year, I of course tried out for that. But I lost the part to Justin Guarini — I mean, seriously, a freaking _American Idol_ runner-up?

"I hadn't really wanted to spend months on the road, but when the opportunity came up, I auditioned and got the part. How could I turn down my first major starring role, right?" He waves his hands dramatically as he finishes speaking.

"Why didn't you want to leave?" I ask curiously.

"Well, I didn't want to spend months away from my Pookie, of course!" he replies, as if it's obvious.

"Your Pookie?" I laugh. Is that, like, his pet cat?

"My fiancé, Marcus," he replies with a huge grin. "He's a second generation Italian-American, and you know what that means — some of the biggest salamis around."

I nearly choke on my drink at the insinuation.

"Mmm-mmm, biggest man I've ever dated — well, Edward excepted, of course," he adds with a wink. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, Bella."

I snort in laughter, looking over to Edward next to me. He's adorably pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Oh yeah," I reply, palming Edward through his dress slacks, "I know exactly what you mean." Though I really don't want to think about Riley anywhere near my boyfriend's dick.

"You go, girl!" he shouts with a smile, holding his fist out to bump with my free hand. "Say, are you Italian, Bell-la?"

"No," I reply, still laughing. "My mom just liked the name 'Isabella.'"

"You're awfully quiet, Edward," Riley says, narrowing his eyes.

"You two seem to be getting along just fine without me." I move my hand from Edward's crotch, putting it around his shoulder as I hug him to me, then kiss him on the cheek.

"You two are so freaking cute," Riley exclaims. "You're going to have just the most beautiful babies one day. That's my one regret with being gay," he sighs.

"You can still have children, right?" I ask. "You can adopt, or…"

"Sure," he shrugs, "But they won't be a true combination of my partner and me. My sister has already agreed to be a surrogate for us, so with any luck, they will actually look like both of us."

"Are you planning to have kids soon?" Edward asks, sounding surprised.

"Oh no, not for several years. My sister, Bree, is only 23, and she says she wants to have her own family first before she starts having mine. Of course, she needs to find a husband first. Hey, is your hunky brother still single, Edward?"

"You've met Emmett?" I ask, confused by his comment.

"Oh yes, once. I don't know how much Edward has told you, but we met in drama class." I nod that I was aware of that. "Our class put on a play at the end of the semester and Edward's family came to see him in it."

"You were in a play?" I ask in shock, turning to my boyfriend.

"I just had a minor role," he explains. "Mostly I helped with the costumes. Riley had the lead though. And no," he chuckles, "Emmett isn't still single; he got married a little under two years ago."

"Damn… we could've been brothers-in-law! Or something." I hold in my laughter as best I can. Riley jumps from one subject to the next so fast that I can hardly keep up.

"Is Marcus in show business also?" I ask. I'd much rather talk about the man Riley is currently dating than anything related to his past relationship.

"Yes, Ma'am, he's a set designer. We met during one of my earlier roles. Oh, would you like to see him?"

"Sure," I shrug, trying to hide the fact that I'm dying of curiosity.

Riley digs his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a small photo and handing it to me. I glance at the dark-haired man, and he is rather attractive. He looks like a less clean-cut version of the actor Peter Facinelli from one of Edward's and my favorite TV shows, _Nurse Jackie_. When I've finished looking at it, I hand the photo back to him.

"Don't I get to see it?" Edward pouts.

"He's too hairy for you," I reply immediately and Riley guffaws, but he shows Edward the photo. "Too hairy, right?"

Edward sticks his tongue out at me, then turns to his ex. "Is he from New York?"

"Mmm, no," he replies absently as he puts the photo back in his wallet. "Similar background to you. Ass-backwards religious parents from St. Louis. Threw him out when he told them he was gay, so he moved to New York and made it on his own."

"Wow…" I mumble.

"Do your parents still have giant poles up their back doors?"

"Yeah," Edward nods. "They still don't know I've ever dated men, though I suppose it's irrelevant now. I even took Bella to my brother's wedding instead of my boyfriend at the time."

"You were his _beard_?!" His eyes are wide as he stares at me.

"Only to his family… and, well, I guess his coworkers, too," I reply.

"Falling in love with your beard… that's a first," Riley chuckles, drinking his beer. "Are you a Jacksonville native, Bella?"

I shake my head. "I grew up mainly in Phoenix. I followed my mom here when I attended the University of North Florida. My mom and stepdad live about 15 minutes away from us."

"Oh. My. God. You two live together?" Riley asks, hand over his heart. "I bet that gave your parents a heart attack. Or don't they know?" he adds with a wink.

"They know," Edward confirms. "Someone, who wasn't me, let it slip at Christmas." I remove my arm from his shoulders and give his dick a squeeze. I'm sure his gasp lets Riley knows exactly what I did.

"Do you two need to get a room?" Ok, now it's my turn to blush.

"It's… really good to see you again, Edward," Riley says, sounding more serious than he has all night. "I have always hoped that you'd find love and happiness. Marcus and I met three years ago, and it was like I came out of the darkness or something. I'd thought I was happy with you, and with this hunky construction worker I dated a few years later, but when I met Marcus, I just knew he and I were meant to be.

"It freaking _sucked_ to walk away from you, but it was the right thing to do," he finishes, reaching across the table to squeeze Edward's hand. Now I actually _like_ Riley much more than I'd expected to — ok, I expected to hate his guts — but if he doesn't get his hand off my man…

"That's why I wanted to come here tonight, to at least attempt to talk to you… because I feel the same way," Edward says softly. "I've got everything I ever wanted in Bella, and I really hoped to find you just as happy."

Riley smiles, and I see his eyes glisten with unshed tears. "My eyeliner's going to run," he shudders. "Bella, I'm sorry for intruding on your evening. Friend me, all right? Both of you. I'll tell them to put your drinks on our tab," he says as he stands.

This time I stand up with Edward, stepping out of the booth long enough to hug Riley when he finally gets his paws off my man. He kisses my cheek as he pulls away. "Take care of yourself," he says to Edward, shaking his hand.

"You too."

Riley walks up to the bar and I see him talking to the bartender, pointing back at our table. Edward winds his arm around me, squeezing my ass. "Ready to go?"

"Ready." Edward throws a few bills on the table as a tip and takes my hand. Riley salutes us as we pass by the bar and I wave back. Maybe I will actually friend him.

Outside, Edward pulls me into his body, kissing my temple before we start walking back to the car. "Thank you for coming with me," he begins quietly. "I know that wasn't easy for you."

"Are you glad we came here?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah… I got the answer I wanted," he replies. "Told you you'd like him," he adds, bumping his hip into mine as we wait to cross the street.

"He's a little dramatic."

Edward laughs loudly. "Understatement."

"He was what I needed at the time though," he says softly. "Someone to show me that I shouldn't be afraid to embrace my sexuality. At least out of my parents' range," he adds with an eye roll. "He's open and fearless and… just an all-around fun person. I think his friends had no idea what he saw in me."

"Obviously he saw the size of your salami," I point out. "And the fact that you're, you know, freakin' hot."

Edward shakes his head, but I can see the grin he's trying to hide. When we reach the car, he pulls me to a stop, then cradles my face in his hands tenderly and touches his lips to mine. "Why didn't you drive?" he asks.

Huh? "Because I'm tipsy after one sake. Why?"

"Because my two-seater car makes it impossible to take advantage of the deserted parking lot."

A grin slowly spreads across my face as I take in that statement. "But your car will get us home faster."

Laughing, Edward opens my door, closing it once I'm inside. I put my hand back on his thigh as soon as he's buckled in.

"If the steering wheel wasn't in the way, I could give you road head," I suggest.

"Not in my seventy-thousand-dollar car!" And here I didn't think he was materialistic.

Edward drives us home as quickly as he can — safely. The minute he's parked in the garage, I'm out of the car, heading straight for my bedroom to get my clothes off.

The shoes are the first to go — God, I'm going to have painful blisters tomorrow. I toss my wrap onto the bed and then start trying to unzip my dress. I remember too late that this zipper gives me trouble, but before I have a chance to call Edward for help, his arms are around me and his lips are placing soft kisses along the back of my neck.

"Why do you still insist on having your own room?" he asks quietly.

"You know why."

"Tell me again."

"Because there's not enough room in your closet for all of our clothes!"

"Bella… maybe this is a sign that we should both clean out our closets," he replies, kissing just below my ear. "And if they still don't all fit, we can keep off-season clothes, or things we don't wear as often, in here. Your party dresses, for example."

"But… but there's only one sink in your bathroom." Fuck, his kisses are making it hard to think.

He stops kissing me, then spins me around to face him. "How many times do we both really need a _sink_ at the same time?" he asks. "There's enough counter space for us to get ready together."

I open and close my mouth a few times. How can I explain to him what I'm really afraid of?

"Bella," he begins, taking my face in his hands, "I want you to move in to my room. You are not a guest in my house. You are my girlfriend. I want this to be permanent."

"Are you just saying that because Riley is completely out of the picture?" I ask in a small voice.

Edward stares at me with an expression I don't want to decipher, dropping his hands from my face so he can tear at his hair. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back.

"Bella, I told you before we talked to Riley tonight that I felt we'd made the correct, mature decision in breaking up nine years ago. This has _nothing_ to do with him — nothing. This is all me, a man in love with a silly, beautiful, insecure girl. I love you. I want to marry you one day. Hell, I'd get down on one knee and ask you right now if I thought you were ready for that." _Fuck!_

He shakes his head. "The fact that you still don't believe you're enough for me shows me that you're not ready to commit. And that's fine, I don't need to put a ring on your finger right now. But I need you to believe in me. I need you to believe in _yourself_, Bella." He steps closer, gently cradling my face again. "Take the leap of faith and move in to my room. I promise that you are more than enough for me."

As I stare into his eyes, I can see the truth in what he's saying. "I'm sorry," I whisper. Fuck, it's my own insecurities that could ruin this, not Riley or any other man… or woman.

"No, don't apologize. Just… trust me. I fell in love with who you are inside. What body parts you do or do not have make no difference to me. I didn't choose a specific gender — I chose _you_."

I'm unable to keep from smiling. "There's my beautiful girl," he whispers, stroking my cheeks softly. "Say you'll move in."

"I'll move in," I nod. "I love you so much, Edward." And I'll do anything to make him happy — well, short of… _that_.

"I love you, too. Now turn around," he whispers.

I turn, and he lowers the zipper on my dress, painstakingly slowly. As he pushes the straps off my shoulders, I'm taken right back to that night in Fort Lauderdale. Just like that night, I turn slowly to face him, catching Edward's eyes drinking in my nearly naked body.

"Fuck… you're even wearing the same underwear?"

"All for you," I whisper.

In the blink of an eye, his arms are around my back, unhooking my bra and tossing it aside. He places his hands under my ass, lifting me up until he can take my eager nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he flicks it with his tongue repeatedly.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I run my hands through his hair, tugging in time with the movement of his mouth. "Let's give your bedroom a deserving send-off," he growls, walking me over to the closest wall. He slams my back against the wall as his tongue forces its way into my mouth.

Edward pulls his hips back just enough for me to reach the fly of his pants. I shove them down then try to tug his boxer briefs down at least to his thighs.

"Take my cock," he demands gruffly. With one hand, he pushes my thong aside and I line his cock up with my entrance. I cry out as he's buried inside me in one thrust.

He fucks me roughly, his thighs slapping against mine, his mouth just as demanding. It's wild and possessive and everything I need right now to believe that I'm the only one he wants. As his thrusts become more uneven, he buries his face in my neck, panting and growling as he nears his climax.

"Bella," he pants, tugging at my earlobe, "Tell me… you believe me now."

"Oh God," I moan. "I believe you… I believe you. Fuck!" I'm lost in waves of pleasure, throwing my head back as I feel Edward spilling into me when he comes with a long groan.

He leans his forehead on my shoulder, breathing heavily as I feel his cock begin to soften inside me. Slowly, I bring my hands up, running them through his sweaty hair.

"I love you," I whisper. "And I'd be honored to be your wife one day."

He lifts his head, his expression sleepy yet sated. "I haven't asked you yet," he smirks.

He lowers me to the floor then steps out of his slacks and finishes removing his underwear. His eyes roam up and down my body. "You look well fucked," he says quietly, rubbing his fingers over a rapidly forming bruise on my left hip. "Sorry about that."

"I like having your marks on me," I disagree. He raises one eyebrow, then leaves a slow, lingering kiss on my swollen lips.

"You'll freak out when you see what I've done to your make-up. Why don't you go wash your face and then meet me in _our_ bed for Round 2?"

"You'd seriously be up for another round?" I ask in disbelief.

"Not another like that," he chuckles. "I want to slowly make love to my future fiancée."

"I want that too," I smile. My feet won't be the only thing aching in the morning.

* * *

**A/N:** So, that's Riley. He's not intended to be representative of _all_ gay men, of course. As moosals said, he's in theater so he'd probably be dramatic anyway.

I know some of you were worried about how this meeting was going to go. Are we feeling better now? Is Edward out of the doghouse?

A reminder that the next posting day will be **Wednesday** morning (US time) after I get home from a business trip. I'll offer up a Tuesday night posting if we can hit 800 reviews before I get back, but I know that's really only about 12 hours early, LOL. I won't have computer access to post while I'm away!


	15. Little Shop of Horrors

**Author Note:** Woot, we easily beat the 800-review goal! I'm glad everyone liked Riley!

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 15 — Little Shop of Horrors_

_April 2014_

I sit down on the couch with an audible wince, stretching out before arranging the heating pad over my lower abdomen. I close my eyes, begging the Midol I took a half hour ago to start kicking in.

My head is pounding, and I feel like my lady parts are staging a revolution inside of me. As a teenager, I had months like this often, until birth control managed to stabilize my hormones and stop the madness.

I've gone soft in the last several years, clearly. I felt bad calling a coworker and begging her to work for me so I could go home early, but I was just not up for putting on a smile and serving customers tonight.

Shit, I had stuff to do after work tonight, too. Edward's mom is coming tomorrow to stay for a few days to help with redecorating the house. Her plane lands just before noon, and Edward is planning to pick her up at the airport, so I guess I'll still have tomorrow morning to finish cleaning up the place. Even though he lives here too, I know I'll be the one blamed if we look like we're slobs. We don't have a maid come in once a week like the Cullens.

No matter how long I lie down, the pain never fully goes away, and I can't manage even a catnap.

And then I hear the garage door opening — Edward is home. I'm sure he's surprised to see my car in the garage on a Friday evening.

"Bella?" he calls out.

"In here."

I force my eyes to open and see the confusion on his face when he steps into the living room. "Are you ok?" he asks, rushing to my side.

"Female issues."

"Oh," he replies, wrinkling his nose. "Did you take anything?"

I look at my watch. "About two hours ago."

"Let me go get changed and I'll be back, ok?" I nod, closing my eyes again.

A few minutes later, I hear Edward's bare feet on the floor. "Sit up, baby," he says, lightly touching my arm. He places his arm underneath me to help me up, then sits down where my head was resting so I'm leaning against his side. He hands me two tablets, and I pop them in my mouth as he holds a glass of water up to my lips.

Once I've emptied the glass, he sets it down on the coffee table then places a soft, lingering kiss on my temple. "Ok, back down." He eases me down slowly, until my head is lying in his lap. I turn facing away from him, back to the way I was.

And then I let out a soft sigh as he starts… petting me, for lack of a better term. His right hand brushes through my hair, draws lazy patterns on my bare arm and my hip. It's so soothing. I'm sure it's killing him to not turn on the TV and find a baseball game or something like that, and I fall in love with him just a little bit more.

"I have to admit," he begins quietly, "I got a little excited when I saw your car in the garage. Reminded me of that week when your coworker needed you to change shifts and you were home to cook me dinner every night."

Despite the pain I'm in, I grin to myself. Men are so freakin' clueless — he has no idea I orchestrated that whole week for my ridiculous notion that keeping him well fed and sated would mean I wouldn't lose him to his ex.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Are you feeling a little better?" he asks a few minutes later.

"A little."

"We can just order delivery later; you don't have to cook me dinner tonight."

"Mmm… thanks," I mumble. He's massaging my scalp now with his left hand and it feels amazing.

"I've never seen you like this before. Are you usually just better at hiding it from me?" he asks.

"I used to get cramps like this all the time," I explain. "But then when I came to Jacksonville and my mom realized how bad it was, she took me to a doctor and got me on birth control, which helped a lot.

"I know I'm just being a big baby, but it's been so long since I've had it this bad."

"You said you get the birth control shot, right?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Did you… miss an appointment or something?"

"No," I assure him. "I got my last shot right after we got back from Forks."

I slowly roll over onto my back so I can look up at him. "Why? Were you just freaking out that you might have gotten me pregnant?" I ask with a grin.

Edward just stares down at me for a long while. "That wouldn't freak me out," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I guess… I guess what Riley said about us having beautiful babies got me thinking."

"You want to have a baby?" I try not to start hyperventilating.

"Well, yeah… I mean, no, not right now," he quickly backtracks. "I'm enjoying it just being the two of us right now. But before I'm 40. Is that… something you would want?"

I smile up at him. "Yes," I reply. "I've been able to picture it ever since Christmas — what it would be like to host the holidays with our own family."

"Good," he breathes, sighing… in relief? Did he actually doubt that I'd want to have his baby? He takes one of my hands in his, squeezing it then brushing his thumb over the back of my hand.

And then his stomach growls, making me giggle. "Sorry," he chuckles. "I had an early lunch. Want me to order a pizza?"

"Hawaiian?"

He rolls his eyes. "Hawaiian," he nods, pulling his iPhone out of his pocket.

"About 25 minutes, they said," he announces after placing the order. "Whatever shall we do for 25 minutes?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

"I hope that was a rhetorical question. You know I'm off limits for a few days."

"Will you get mad if I say that's the one thing I don't like about having a _girlf_riend?"

"Yes," I reply, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Ow! You know, as long as you're down there, you could maybe…"

I sit up quickly, punching him in the arm. "I am not giving you a blowjob right now."

"Worth a shot," he winks. "I got spoiled when you jumped my bones every night for a week." I glare at him. "Don't think I didn't know what you were doing, by the way."

What the fuck?! He _knew_? "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

He laughs. "Oh come on, I'm not _that_ clueless. I know you were freaked out about what would happen when I saw Riley again."

"But you didn't say anything."

"And ruin a good thing?" I slap him again, standing up so I can head to the bathroom.

"Can I have a blowjob after dinner then?" he asks on my way out of the room.

"Not a chance, Cullen!"

* * *

"That was delicious, Bella," Esme says, pushing her plate away. I am feeling much better today, so I grilled salmon to make salmon BLT sandwiches for lunch to welcome her to Jacksonville.

"Thank you," I smile, clearing the table.

"Are you two ready to get started?" she asks once I've put everything in the dishwasher. We nod in agreement. "I got plenty of ideas from the photos you emailed me, but I'd like to take a proper look around first."

"Sure," Edward agrees.

Our home has an open floor plan with the living room — Esme calls it "the great room" — in the center of the house open to the kitchen and dining area. In the front of the house near the foyer is Edward's office, with the master suite to the left and the two guest bedrooms and bathroom to the right of the kitchen and dining room.

"What's in here?" she asks, motioning toward the closed door near the kitchen.

"Nothing right now," Edward answers. "It's another guest room, but I just use it for storage."

"Hmm," she replies, opening the door to peek inside.

"All right, so… what I like about your home. First, I love the bones of the house — the layout, open floor plan and the lanai with ocean views.

"I love the tile floors throughout the house, though you're in desperate need of area rugs in a few rooms to soften things up. The color of the tile is beautiful, and the French pattern adds a lot of interest."

"French pattern?" Edward asks. "I always thought the tiles were just kind of random."

"No," she laughs. I'm glad she likes the tile, because I've always thought the floors are beautiful — a walnut background with a mixture of light gold, dark brown and light blue ink tones.

"The kitchen has been upgraded?" she asks. "The stainless steel appliances and granite countertops are very nice."

"Yeah," Edward replies. "I think the previous owners updated the kitchen."

"I love the kitchen," I agree. It's so much nicer than in any home I've lived in before.

"Now what I don't like," Esme continues. "Brass lighting, really? Those are clearly original to the house and have to go immediately. As do the white walls. Really, Edward, did you never paint?"

"The walls aren't white," he protests.

"Close enough," she sniffs. "And vertical blinds? Ugh, how '80s." I laugh, as Esme is pointing out everything that I would love to change. I just never felt like it was my place to do so. "You need to start thinking about whether you'd rather have bronze or nickel lighting."

"Which do you suggest?" I ask.

"I would choose bronze, but it's up to you. Either is popular right now," she answers. "I'll have to make a note of how many lights we need. Now, what furniture has to stay?"

"I've only had the bedroom set for two years," he replies. "And the sectional."

"The sectional is very comfortable," I speak up.

"Those are fine," Esme says. "Though I imagine Bella would prefer less masculine bedding?"

"But I don't want something pink and flowery!" Edward protests as I nod vigorously.

"There's quite a large middle ground between what you have and pink flowers, Edward," she replies. _Go Esme!_

"I'm not a huge fan of your dining table at all; it's merely functional. As it's the only eating area you have, it should at least enhance the look of the home."

"Sure, Ma," he agrees, rolling his eyes.

"I have an idea for your windows," she says, pulling a notebook out of her bag. "These are called plantation shutters. If you like them, I've already found a place nearby that sells them, and I can have someone come out to measure on Monday."

I peek at the photos of the white, faux wood shutters and they do look nice. "Those would go really well with the style of the house," I agree. "What do you think, Edward?"

He shrugs. "Not too feminine, so I like that. They look kind of expensive though?"

Esme nods. "These would be the most expensive upgrade, yes. But I've shopped around to find a store nearby with a good price."

"Is that all you'd put on the windows then?" he asks.

"I was thinking of additional fabric panels in the bedrooms. What would you like to do with the third bedroom? Perhaps… a nursery for after you two get married?"

"Ma!" he exclaims. "Don't rush us, ok? We'll make you a grandmother one day, I promise."

"Before I'm too old to enjoy my grandchildren, please." I chuckle at the expression on his face.

"Let's just leave that room for now, ok?" he suggests.

"All right," she nods. "Now I know you told me not to go overboard with high end, so I thought first we could go to Bed, Bath & Beyond to look for bedding for the two rooms. I'll measure the windows so we can pick up brackets for the fabric panels as well.

"I've already checked that there's a Home Depot close by, so we'll go there next for lighting and area rugs. Once we've chosen those, we can pick out paint colors together tonight, sound good?"

"Sure," he replies, sounding a bit dazed.

"I've already got someone coming by to start painting tomorrow, while we're visiting Bella's parents, so we can pick up the paint first thing in the morning."

"That sounds good," I agree. Paint fumes give me a headache.

"They'll probably need to finish up on Monday, given the size of the house. And then I'll go shopping for your kitchen table and any accessories."

"You've thought of everything," he grins.

"Let me just go measure and make some notes, then we'll leave, all right?" We nod, letting her do her thing.

"Wow," he says quietly once his mother is out of the room. "She's a bit of a whirlwind."

I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Thank you for my Valentine's Day gift."

He kisses me softly, leaning his forehead against mine. "I want you to be comfortable here. This is your house, too. Be sure to let Mom know if you don't like something, ok? I don't really pay much attention to what it looks like."

"Obviously," I reply with a grin, wondering where Mr. Control Freak is now.

"I mean, did you know the floors are called a French pattern?"

I laugh. "I knew it was a pattern, but no, I didn't know the name. Learn something every day," I tease him.

Once Esme has finished measuring, we hop into the SUV that Edward borrowed from one of the other doctors at his practice and drive to Bed, Bath & Beyond. We grab a cart and follow the signs to the bedding. Edward looks to be a little frightened by all of the choices.

"Perhaps something with a beach theme?" his mother suggests. He wrinkles his nose. "Maybe just for the guest bedroom then," she modifies.

"Oh, how about this one?" Esme calls a few minutes later. Edward and I walk up to her to see what she's found. "This is such an ocean blue that it fits the beach theme, without being too obvious."

The comforter set is mainly ocean blue and cream stripes, with a darker blue in the bed skirt, pillow shams and accent pillows. "I was thinking we could match the cream on the walls, with an accent wall in this darker blue," Esme says.

"I like it. What do you think, Edward?"

"It's nice," he shrugs. "Lots of pillows," he notes, staring at the picture on the bag.

"Pillows are what make the bed, dear," his mother replies. "Looks like there are matching window panels as well. We can pick up two sets of those for the windows and another for the French doors leading to the lanai."

Edward is less particular about the guest room, and we soon find a set in white, cream and light brown, with a seashell design. Esme picks up new bronze curtain rods for the windows in both bedrooms and we're done with this store.

Home Depot is next, and as we walk down the aisle of area rugs, we choose a rug with just enough chocolate brown to match the sectional in the great room, a matching smaller rug for the entry way, and one with swirls of brown and beige for the guest bedroom.

"How about this one for the master bedroom?" I suggest, pointing toward a simple shag rug in a cream color. "It's really soft."

Esme laughs. "I remember shag from the '70s, but it's coming back."

Edward kind of wrinkles his nose, so I walk him a few steps away for a… private conversation. "If the floor was softer, you might get me on my knees more often," I explain quietly. His eyes widen and he walks quickly back to where his mother is waiting.

"We'll take it, Ma," he agrees. Men are so easy.

As we move to the lighting aisle, Esme and I have fun looking at all of the beautiful choices while Edward just stands around looking dazed — and bored. We manage to select something for every room, so that's one less thing we'll have to worry about later.

After we've paid for everything, we bring the SUV up to the storefront to start loading it. Now I know why Esme drives an SUV back in Chicago. By the time we're pulling out of the parking lot, it's after six o'clock.

Back home after grabbing dinner, we unload the car, placing the bedding, rugs and boxes of lights in the proper rooms. Esme pulls out dozens of little cards with paint colors and starts flipping through them. "What do you think of this cream for the three bedrooms?" she asks.

"Isn't that almost white?" Edward remarks.

"It's much softer than a stark white. You'll see the difference against the white trim and shutters," she explains.

He shrugs his agreement. She chooses a golden beige for the majority of the house, talking us into being a little wild and using the darker blue she chose for the accent wall in our bedroom, in the master bath as well as Edward's office. She also selects a chocolate brown accent wall for the guest bedroom, bringing that color into the kitchen and dining area. I really like all of her choices; of course, the Cullens' home in Chicago is beautiful, so I had expected to.

Once the paint colors have been finalized, she draws up a little map of the house, marking for the painters which walls will have which color, and begins measuring to see how many gallons of each we need to pick up tomorrow morning.

"Do you like everything we're doing?" I ask him quietly while she is measuring the master bedroom.

"It'll look nice, I'm sure. This is to make _you_ happy," he insists.

"But you live here, too."

"I just want the places where I sit or lie down to be comfortable. Nothing else really matters," he shrugs.

"You are _such_ a guy sometimes." I shake my head as he grins, leaning over to kiss me.

* * *

"What do you mean, you don't go to church?"

"Ma—" She silences Edward with a look, then eyes _me_, as if I'm the one responsible for this travesty. "Ma," he tries again, "I haven't gone to church regularly since I left Chicago."

"But—"

"I just prefer to keep my faith more private," he explains.

Such begins a tense Sunday morning breakfast. I've made pancakes for the three of us and Edward scarfs them down, though his mother still looks less than pleased with the two of us… heathens.

As soon as Edward and his mother have finished breakfast and left for the paint store, I call my mom, reminding her once again that Esme has no clue that her son has ever dated men, so please, please, please don't say anything. She assures me that she won't, and I know she would never do so on purpose, but…

I bake a batch of caramel oatmeal bars, Mom's favorite, to bring to the barbecue, just pulling them out of the oven before the two of them arrive home with more gallons of paint than I've ever seen outside of a paint store. The painters arrive a few minutes later, along with a handyman who will help with changing out the lights and prepping the rooms.

Once Esme is certain that they're on the right path, she gives the men her cell phone number and we're off to my parents' house for a backyard barbecue.

I text Mom when we turn onto her street and she lets me know that they're already in the backyard, enjoying the sunny afternoon.

"Hey, Mom," I call as we round the corner of the house. She jumps up and hugs me tightly, then reaches for Edward. "Mom, this is Esme Cullen. Esme, this is Renee and Phil Dwyer."

"It's so nice to meet you," Esme says pleasantly, shaking hands with both of my parents.

"We just love Edward," Mom gushes. "I couldn't have chosen a better man for Bella."

"Yes, we're so proud of both of our boys," she smiles.

"Where is your husband?" Mom asks.

"Oh, he couldn't get off work," Esme replies. "And this is more of a working trip than a vacation."

Mom is intrigued by Esme's plans for our home as well as the pictures I show her from my phone. I promise her she can come see everything as soon as the plantation shutters have been installed.

Mom pours us each a glass of iced tea, and to my… chagrin? The two moms seem to get along famously, swapping embarrassing stories of Edward and me as children. I start getting a little more nervous as the stories get more and more recent, though.

"How long have you known Edward?" Esme asks, sipping her tea.

"Oh, we've known him for over four years now, I guess. Bella used to bring him by for barbecues, along with whomever he was seeing at the time." I try to tell Mom with my eyes to change the subject, but she's not looking in my direction. "I think Laurent was my favorite — they made just the cutest couple, and that accent… ooh la la!"

"_Who_ was your favorite?" Esme asks.

"Lauren," I nearly shout, though the name makes me ill.

"Oh," she frowns. "I thought you said… oh, never mind. What kind of accent did she have?"

"Southern," I answer quickly. 'Lauren' doesn't sound like a _French_ name to me. "A real Southern belle, from South Carolina." At least that's the truth. Mom finally looks in my direction, giving me an apologetic look.

Phil gets up around 2:30 to get the meat for the burgers, refusing to allow any of us to help him. Things are still a little tense between my stepdad and my boyfriend, but Esme seems to be oblivious, thankfully.

"The weather here is just amazing," Esme gushes. "I can see why so many of our friends are retiring to Florida."

Edward shoots me a look and I try not to laugh. While he does love his mother, I think he prefers the distance between them. "Wait a few months and it'll be 95 degrees and humid," he says, trying to put her off.

While the burgers are cooking, I help Mom with bringing the side dishes outside and setting the table.

"Thank you," I whisper to her when we're alone in the kitchen. "Believe me, you do _not_ want to see her reaction if you let anything slip."

"Well, she seems perfectly pleasant," Mom disagrees.

"Until you get her talking religion or social issues," I explain. "She about had a coronary when she found out we weren't going to church this morning."

We stay chatting and eating dessert until twilight, finally hugging my parents goodbye and heading back home.

When we arrive, we walk around the house in awe of how amazing everything looks. The soaring vaulted ceilings of the great room aren't finished yet, the fabric panels still need to be hung, and the beds still need to be made, but everything else looks great.

Esme tackles the guest room, while I make up our bed, laughing at Edward's expression when he does indeed see all of the pillows. "You just have to toss them on the floor every night," he complains.

"But doesn't it look nice all made up?"

"It's kind of a girly blue."

I roll my eyes. "But it's still blue, and that's a boy color."

"Oh hush, Edward," his mother says as she walks into the room. "Now help me lift up the bed so we can slide the area rug in place beneath it."

It takes all three of us to manage, but once the rug is in place, I love the feel of it beneath my feet. And I know Edward's going to enjoy the… perks of it, too.

"They should get the fabric panels up tomorrow," Esme says. "The text I got said they wanted to be sure the walls were dry first."

"Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, pulling me into his arms. "Even if it's two months late."

* * *

The painters and handyman arrive bright and early Monday morning, just before Edward leaves for the office. We get them started, and then Esme and I duck out to go furniture shopping. We choose a gorgeous dining set made of rattan that seems perfect for our subtle beach theme. It's a little pricey, but the chairs are comfortable enough for Edward. I decide to go for it, scheduling the delivery for Friday morning.

After dropping Esme back at our house, I need to leave for my shift at the restaurant. She will wait for someone to measure the windows, then take the borrowed SUV to shop for accessories — which probably means lots of throw pillows for the sectional. Edward is going to freak.

I get off work after the early dinner crowd, rushing home to see what our house looks like. And it doesn't disappoint. It finally feels warm and inviting, like a home should.

"Do you like it?" Edward asks with a grin, following me around.

"I love it," I assure him. "Can't wait to see the shutters."

"Mom showed me a picture of the table you guys picked out," he says, pulling me into his arms.

"Is it ok?" I ask tentatively. "I promise the chairs are comfortable."

He laughs. "I'm sure it'll be fine then. Mom wants to try our favorite sushi place for dinner. Are you game?"

"Of course," I nod. "Let me just get changed."

The three of us have a nice dinner — no pressure to get married or start having grandbabies — before turning in for the night. Since Edward has an early appointment, I'll take his mother to the airport in the morning.

"I'm really glad we decided to do this," I tell him as we lie cuddled in bed together.

"Me too," he whispers. "Just the look on your face tonight was worth every penny."

"I promise I'll start paying you back tomorrow night — once your mom is gone. Maybe get some use out of this new rug," I hint.

"Bella," he groans. "Don't say things like that. And you know, she's further away in the guest room than my parents' bedroom was from mine at their house."

"Well, that's true, I guess," I reply, trailing my hand down his warm, bare chest.

* * *

**A/N:** A little breather after the drama of the last two chapters. Though thanks to Renee's big mouth, all hell almost broke loose. Nice save from Bella! (Lauren is the name of the woman her last boyfriend cheated with, for those who don't remember why the name makes her ill.)

Isn't Edward the sweetest, taking care of crampy Bella then giving up control of the decorating to his mom?

If anyone cares, this is the model I used for Edward and Bella's beach house, without the "Lanai 2" and the bathroom off the back of the house… and the second floor. I wouldn't mind living in a place like that!

thesterling-collection dot com /plans/detail/viewer/?model_id=15&file_id=1425

**Let me keep hearing from you! I reply to all reviews. **


	16. Independence Day

**Author Note:** Thanks to **Kitty Bad** for rec'ing this story on the Fic Sisters' _International House of Fanfic_ last week! And welcome to all new readers who followed the rec and stuck with me.

I forgot to say last chapter, sorry to the one reader who was disappointed that Edward didn't invite Riley back to the house for a threesome lol.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 16 — Independence Day_

_May 2014_

My book is finally released on May 1, 2014. After so many years of wanting this, it feels almost surreal.

I did end up friending Riley to let him know the details — with my brand new author account. I didn't exactly want him to see my "real" Facebook account where he could follow the photos I post of Edward and me.

Sue me, I can be a jealous bitch.

I step inside our home after an evening working at the restaurant, ready for a quiet night of celebrating the release with my boyfriend. Entering the laundry room from the garage, I'm surprised to see the door closed. Confused, I open it, stepping into the kitchen.

"SURPRISE!"

"Oh my God!" My hand flies to my chest as my heart beats madly.

"Congratulations, baby," Edward smiles, wrapping me tightly in his arms and kissing me. When he releases me, I look around the kitchen, spotting my beaming mother, Phil, Angela, Ben, as well as my editor, Jane Torrino — here all the way from the office in New York.

"I get the first signed copy," Angela squeals, handing me a hot-off-the-presses copy of my book and a pen. Laughing, I quickly scribble a note to her on the first page. I don't have the heart to tell her that Edward already has the actual first signed copy.

There are hugs from everyone, and then Edward excuses himself, coming back into the room with a huge cake. Tears pool in my eyes as I gaze at my cake, "Congratulations, Bella!" written in huge, cursive letters. Mom grabs a knife from the drawer and hands it to me. I let out a squeal of my own when I see the bright red crumbs clinging to the knife after the first cut.

"I'm so proud of you," Mom says as I hand her a piece.

"Thanks, Mom," I tell her, wiping away a stray tear.

After we've finished eating the delicious cake, I sign copies of the book for Mom and Jane, then Edward opens a bottle of wine, pouring everyone a glass.

Mom asks to see the updates we've made to the house — I'm surprised it's taken her this long considering how excited she was to see it. The plantation shutters were just installed a couple of days ago, and we hadn't had anyone over to see them yet.

"I am so jealous," Angela says as we walk through the master bedroom. And I am so glad I made the bed this morning.

"Your house is amazing," Jane agrees. "Edward said his mother decorated?"

"Yes," I nod. "She's a well-known interior designer back in Chicago."

"I can see why," she remarks.

"What do you think, Mom?" I ask as we step back into the great room.

"It's just beautiful," she agrees. "Maybe we should have her back to do our house." Yeah, I don't think so, not after the way she nearly told Esme that her son dated men.

Since Edward has to work early tomorrow, we reluctantly say goodbye to our guests around midnight, promising to have them over again sometime soon.

"Where did they all park?" I ask with a chuckle after we close the front door.

"Around the corner," Edward shrugs. "Couldn't spoil the surprise."

"You all nearly gave me a heart attack."

He grins, pulling me into his arms. "Are you ready for a little private celebration?" he asks, dipping his head to skim his lips along my collarbone.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

The first month after my book's release is a crazy whirlwind. Because it's set in Florida, my publishers use that as a selling point, sending me to various cities around the state for book signings. I'm lucky the restaurant is so understanding, but I know that if this really takes off, I'll end up having to quit my job.

I love, love, love meeting everyone at the book signings… but I miss Edward terribly, despite our nightly phone calls. Even three nights in a row without him beside me is too long.

Though the coming-home sex is pretty damn spectacular.

The last week in May, Edward's sister-in-law, Rosalie, has some type of weeklong training for her job down in Atlanta. Emmett goes with her, and when her seminar ends on Friday afternoon, the two of them rent a car and drive down to Jacksonville. It's the first time Emmett has come to see where his brother lives.

When Emmett first told Edward about their plans, he explained that it's a five-hour drive, but Emmett was undeterred, insisting that it's long past time they come for a visit.

Emmett and Rose arrive shortly after I get home from work on Friday evening. After giving them a quick tour of our home, we show them to the guest room for the night. Emmett has somehow talked his brother into playing a round of golf with him in the morning, while Rose and I plan to visit the nearest mall for some quality shopping and female bonding time.

* * *

"This was excellent, Bella," Emmett declares, patting his stomach as he pushes his chair back from our new kitchen table on Saturday morning. "No wonder my brother is getting fat."

"Hey!" Edward cries, reaching over to slap his brother's arm.

I know Emmett is just teasing; Edward's body is just as toned and perfect as it was the first time I ever saw him shirtless. It was about nine months after we met; Edward found out I couldn't really swim and took me to the beach, determined to teach me. I almost start drooling just thinking about it.

"I'm gonna go check on Rosie," Emmett says as he stands up from the table, heading to the guest bedroom.

I stand as well, clearing away the breakfast dishes and rinsing them in the sink. Opening the dishwasher, I bend over to start loading the dishes. I'm startled by a pair of large, warm hands on my backside. As I slowly stand back up, strong arms wrap around my waist and I feel Edward's hard chest against my back.

"Such a tease you are," he whispers, placing a soft kiss on the side of my neck. "Your ass looks amazing in those tiny shorts."

"They're not that short," I protest. Just a pair of Miss Me cut-offs that Edward himself picked out for me last year.

"Mmm… they are when you bend over." Edward spins me around, his hands going straight back to my butt as he kneads my cheeks.

"You are such an ass man," I tell him, shaking my head as I wrap my arms around his torso. And here I'd initially thought he was a boob man.

"I'm a Bella man," he insists before leaning down to kiss me. Edward slides his tongue between my lips, stroking it slowly against mine. Suddenly, he's lifting me up to sit on the edge of the counter while his tongue continues to ravish my mouth. I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to pull him even closer.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Emmett exclaims loudly. Edward and I hurriedly pull apart. "You two need to get a room," he chuckles.

"Go away, Emmett," Edward growls.

His brother laughs again. "Sorry, Bella, Rosie said she's still not feeling well. She's just not up to shopping with you this morning. You could always come with us to the golf course instead."

I wrinkle my nose. I've never been on a golf course in my life — unless you count putt-putt. "Come with us," Edward agrees, squeezing my hands. "You don't have to play if you don't want to."

"Yeah, you can just bring us beers, Bella," Emmett adds.

"It's nine in the morning!" I argue.

"I'll let you drive the golf cart," Edward suggests with a wink.

"Now you're talkin'."

* * *

Four hours later, I'm sitting in the backseat of Emmett's rental car, listening to the two brothers bicker back and forth. Emmett won handily in golf, though he'd only played a couple of times so far this Spring. Edward only started playing golf after finishing his residency two years ago and admittedly isn't very good yet. Still, I'm sure he can drive the ball about 20 times farther than I ever could. If I could manage to hit it at all, that is.

While Edward drives, Emmett has his phone out, texting Rose to see if she's feeling well enough for us to stop by and pick her up on our way to lunch. "Rosie said she's sorry, but could we give her a few more hours," he reports back.

Edward chooses a beachside café for lunch and the three of us are seated outside under the shade of an umbrella.

"Man, this is awesome," Emmett gushes. "I can see why you stayed in Jacksonville, bro." Edward just smiles. "Too bad Rosie is missing this."

"I'm sorry she's not feeling well," I tell him. I'd really been hoping to get to know Rose a little better on this short visit.

When our waitress drops off our drinks, Emmett takes a deep breath, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and me. "So, um, I have some news," he begins. "But you've gotta promise to keep it on the down low."

"Of course," we both agree quickly.

"Rosie's pregnant," he announces, his grin a mile wide.

"That's great!" Edward says.

"Congratulations! That explains her sickness," I chuckle. "How far along is she?"

"Eight weeks," he replies. "We're trying to keep it quiet until the end of the first trimester. I mean, this will be the first grandchild on both sides, and we don't want our parents to get their hopes up in case…" He shrugs.

"I won't tell Mom and Dad," Edward assures him with a smile.

"Thanks," Emmett says quietly. "I wouldn't normally ask you to keep something from them. It's just… we were pregnant last summer and Rosie miscarried. She was only five weeks then, and we had just found out. We hadn't gotten a chance to tell anyone yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I say, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"It's fine. We hadn't really had time to even get used to the idea," he continues. "The longer it continues this time, the more excited we're getting though. Rosie started getting morning sickness about two weeks ago, so we're hoping that's a good sign."

After we've finished our meals, we walk down to the beach, where a surfing competition is about to start. Edward holds my hand as we walk across the sand, then pulls me down to sit between his legs on one of the beach towels we brought with us. He wraps his arms around me, then brushes my hair over one shoulder so that he can kiss the side of my neck.

I close my eyes, just enjoying the feel of his lips. When I open them, I notice Emmett staring at us.

"Man, I know I said this before," he begins, "But you two are just so different from the two people who came to our wedding two years ago. You honestly just seemed like best friends then, and now you can't keep your hands off each other," he chuckles. "I thought the honeymoon period was supposed to end at some point."

Edward moves his hands from my stomach, creeping down my bare thighs until they reach my own hands, where he tangles his fingers with mine, squeezing lightly. "We _were_ just best friends at the time of your wedding," he says quietly.

Emmett raises an eyebrow as he stares at us. "Why did you pretend she was your girlfriend then?"

I can feel Edward's chest moving against my back as he takes a deep breath, and I know. I know he wants to tell Emmett the truth. I give his hands a light squeeze in encouragement. Emmett trusted us with the news of Rosalie's pregnancy, and I'm sure we can trust him in return.

"Because I couldn't bring the person I was actually dating."

I can see the confusion written all over Emmett's face. Maybe I'm the only one who could hear the slight emphasis on the word 'person.' "Because she couldn't get off work?" he guesses.

I squeeze Edward's hands again, trying to let him know that he's strong enough to do this. "I wasn't dating a woman at the time. I was dating a man," he states softly.

Emmett's chin falls nearly all the way to his chest. "You're gay?!"

"I'm bisexual," he corrects. "I'm attracted to both men and women."

"But you had girlfriends in high school," Emmett says, shaking his head as if trying to clear cobwebs.

"I did," Edward replies. "Do you really think I could've brought a guy home with the way Mom and Dad are?" I can feel him shaking his head behind me.

I watch Emmett carefully and can see the exact moment the light bulb turns on. "That's it… that's why you seemed so withdrawn back in high school. Because you were struggling with your sexuality."

"Yeah," my boyfriend whispers. "I was so afraid… I mean, I'd have this recurring nightmare that Mom or Dad could read minds and they'd know the kind of thoughts I was having — that they'd kick me out of the house."

"Wow… just… wow. I can't believe I couldn't see it." Emmett shakes his head. "When did you start dating men?"

"My junior year in college."

"Man," Emmett chuckles, "I can't believe Bella lets you sleep with guys on the side."

"What?!" I exclaim at the same time Edward yells, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you're bi," his brother replies with a duh expression.

Edward climbs out from behind me, moving to the side so that the three of us form a small circle, then runs his hands through his hair roughly. "That doesn't mean I would ever sleep with two people at the same time, Emmett! Jesus… I'm as monogamous as you are."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, of course," he insists, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Just because I'm open to either gender doesn't mean I need _both_."

"You don't feel like you're missing out on anything?" Emmett asks skeptically.

"I'm not."

"So a hot, interested guy comes up to let you know he wants you and… what? You aren't interested?"

"What would you do if a hot woman came on to you, Emmett?" I can see how frustrated Edward seems, and I reach out to him, leaving my hand on his ankle.

"Nothing," he shrugs. "There's nothing she could give me that my Rosie can't."

"Well, there's nothing any man can give me that Bella can't."

"That isn't true though," Emmett says slowly. "I mean, she doesn't have…" He trails off, his eyes darting down toward his lap.

"It's not just about sex," Edward growls. "The love and patience and understanding that Bella gives me… I can't get that anywhere else. I don't want to."

"But sex _is_ a part of life."

"It is, yes. But for me, it's all about the intimacy, the emotional connection I have with the person on the inside. In here," he says, touching his chest with his fist. "That's the part of Bella that I love. The outside doesn't matter. Whatever's in her pants doesn't matter. How we have sex doesn't matter."

"Of course it does!" Emmett insists.

"It does to _you_. Because you're straight. I'm not."

In a gesture that's so much like my boyfriend, Emmett runs his hand through his short curly hair, and I can almost see the wheels turning as his brain tries to come to terms with the things Edward is saying. In a way, I sympathize with him; I could never see myself with a woman either, so I also don't truly understand where Edward is coming from here.

"You really don't need a man in your life?" he asks.

"No, I don't," Edward replies quietly. "I haven't been with a man in… well over a year now. I'm fine with it. Bella can more than satisfy me sexually." I raise an eyebrow toward him at that one. I mean, I'm still not planning to let him fuck my ass, though he hasn't even hinted at wanting that since we went to Cancun over four months ago.

"So you're ok with all this, Bella?" Emmett asks, turning to me. "It doesn't bother you that he's dated men before?"

"I love him, Emmett," I reply with a shrug. "I've been in love with him since he was just my gay best friend."

"But…" I look over at Edward, noticing the way he's eyeing me closely. "But there are some… unique challenges that we've had to face."

"My last boyfriend cheated on me," I confess quietly. "Being with your brother, I had to come to terms with the fact that I could lose him not only to another woman, but to a man as well. Due to my own insecurities, I had to realize that every little hiccup, every tiny thing that isn't one-hundred percent perfect about our relationship, isn't because Edward will never want me as much as he would a man. I also had to realize that some things I'd thought were unique to us, really weren't."

"What do you mean?" Emmett asks.

"Well, Edward's gay friends wouldn't accept me because I'm female. Unique, right? But not if I really think about, if I realize that plenty of guys face disapproval for their choice of girlfriends. Maybe to some I'd be the wrong color, the wrong religion, or… maybe the problem is just that I don't make as much money as he does. It's not really so unique after all."

Edward's hand finds mine on his ankle and he weaves his fingers between mine, giving me a small smile. "I'm sure this goes without saying, but please don't breathe a word of this to Mom and Dad."

"Sure, man, I'll keep it on the down low. Heh… I guess that phrase is more apt for your secret than mine," he snickers. I'm glad when Edward laughs along with him. "Can I share this with Rosie though?"

"Sure," Edward replies with a shrug. "I believe from the things she said at Christmas that she'll be understanding."

"Oh yeah, Rosie's as open-minded as they come. Thank you for trusting me," he says quietly. "I can't imagine what it must've been like for you, keeping all this inside."

"It feels good to be honest with the people I love," Edward agrees.

"So what was your type of guy?" Emmett asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Edward just smiles as he shakes his head. "Probably most of the guys who'll be competing out there this afternoon," I answer for him.

"Not some big, burly, hairy guy?"

"Fuck, no," Edward answers.

"Thank God," Emmett says. "I mean, I just don't get that at all. I swear, if I was a woman, I'd be a lesbian. I just don't know _how_ anyone can look at some guy's hairy ass and think, 'Yeaaaahhh'."

I burst out laughing at his ridiculousness. "I've met all of Edward's boyfriends, and I'm pretty sure none of them had a hairy ass," I assure him. "And neither does Edward." Thank God.

"You wouldn't have met the first one though, right? The one from college? Maybe he was a real Yeti."

"Actually, I did meet Riley. He's an actor in New York, and he was in the touring production of _Wicked_ that we saw a couple of months ago. Definitely not hairy," I chuckle.

"New subject, please," Edward pleads with what I hope is fake irritation. I scoot closer to him, kissing him until Emmett starts whistling.

* * *

"Sleep well, you guys," Edward says to Emmett and Rose as they head to the guest room. Rose was feeling well enough to emerge from bed in time for dinner and a night out, listening to a couple of local bands at Freebird Live. They'll be leaving in the morning, driving back to Atlanta in time to catch their flight home to Chicago.

Hand in hand, we step inside our own bedroom. Edward closes the door behind me then puts his free hand around the side of my neck, pulling my mouth to his. His other hand lets go of mine and immediately moves to my ass as I wrap my arms around him, eagerly returning his kisses. I feel him harden against me almost instantly.

Needing to feel his bare skin, I fist the back of Edward's t-shirt, pulling it up. He gets the hint and removes his hand from my neck long enough to yank his shirt over his head. He then moves to mine, tossing it onto the floor in no time. With one hand, he unsnaps my bra behind my back while the other returns to my ass. He kneads my left breast in his hand, bending down to suck my nipple into his mouth.

I blindly reach out for Edward's khakis, sliding the button through the small hole before pulling his zipper down. Before I can reach for his cock, he spins me around, pushing me down until my chest is lying flat on the bed, feet still on the floor.

Edward groans as he kneads my ass cheeks in his large hands. "You have been taunting me all day with these shorts," he growls. He reaches around to my front, opening the fly and then shoving them down my legs. His fingers slip under the sides of my panties, and before I know it, those are gone, too.

"Spread your legs, baby," he commands and I quickly obey. He drops to his knees on the new rug — a fucking awesome purchase — and seconds later, I feel his tongue circling my entrance. Around and around he licks, moving from the top of my slit back to my ass, then tongue-fucking me, then sucking my clit into his mouth. His fingers join in, pushing me over the edge as I try to control my cries of pleasure. I do _not_ want to face Emmett in the morning if he overhears us.

From my dazed state, I hear the rustle of Edward's pants being lowered. He grasps the sides of my hips, inching his fuck-awesome cock inside. He pulls back out just as slowly then slams into me. "Oh God," I moan. He has long since stopped holding back with me, but it's still a rare treat for my boyfriend to fuck me from behind. He says he prefers to stare into my eyes as we make love.

I mean, how can I complain when he says stuff like that?

Since he's still standing, he's able to put so much force behind his thrusts that I have to move to my tiptoes to keep my feet on the floor. I'm moaning and cursing before I feel his lips touch the center of my back. He stretches out over me as he kisses his way up my spine, his hands moving to take mine in his, weaving our fingers together as he had this afternoon. I'm completely surrounded by Edward now, unable to feel anything but his sweat-slicked skin sliding against mine while his cock buries itself inside me again and again.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I chant.

"Shit," he curses, biting down on my shoulder as we both come together. Edward's thrusts slow as the aftershocks go on and on.

"I love you," he whispers, squeezing my hands.

"Love you too," I mumble.

He slowly slides out of me then wraps his arms around my torso and helps me to my feet. Turning me to face him, he hugs me tightly, combing his fingers through my hair.

"Thank you for understanding why I had to tell Emmett today," he says quietly.

"How do you feel now?" I ask curiously.

"I feel… lighter. It really did feel good to tell someone."

I lift my head so I can look into his eyes. He smiles at me, brushing my hair out of my face. "And thank you for the things you said to Emmett," he adds. "I admit I got a bit scared when you added the 'but'," he laughs quietly.

"I couldn't lie and say this has all been easy. But it's so, so worth it."

* * *

**A/N:** So, one of Edward's family members is now aware of his sexuality. What do you think of his decision to tell Emmett? And Emmett's reaction?

Also, Bella is now a published author, yeah!


	17. As Good As It Gets

**Author Note:** You guys have been slacking on the reviews the last couple of chapters! I want to see us break 1,000 before I get home from work! I appreciate all feedback, though please sign in so I can reply.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

_Chapter 17 — As Good As It Gets_

_June 20, 2014_

Bzzzzzz…

I wake up to my pillow vibrating, wondering what the heck is going on. And then I remember, I set the alarm on my phone and put it under my pillow before going to bed last night.

I pull out my phone, hurriedly shutting it off and setting it on the nightstand. It's 6:20am — it's inhuman to get up this early. But Edward's alarm goes off in 10 minutes, so if I wanted to beat him awake, I had no choice.

With a very large yawn, I carefully pull the covers back, trying not to wake my boyfriend. Edward is lying on his back, naked except for a pair of boxers. And he's not even snoring like most men would be if they were lying in that position… how did I ever get so lucky?

I scoot down until I reach the waistband of his boxers, then carefully pull them down to his knees. His cock is only semi-hard, but I should be able to fix that in no time.

I lightly grasp his cock in one hand, then lick from base to tip a few times, until I can slide my hand up and down easily. As I suck the tip into my mouth, I can already feel it hardening. I try to smile, but you know… not so easy with an above-average-sized cock in my mouth.

As I suck more of his length into my mouth, I hear his quiet hiss and I know he's awake. Seconds later, his hands reach out, gathering my hair out of my face so he can watch what I'm doing. He loves to watch. I look him in the eye, winking as I suck hard on the tip.

"Shit," he curses as I drag a finger down over his balls, stroking the soft skin beneath them with my nail. He really does love that. I haven't gotten any closer to the "no-go zone" in the four months since I learned about this magic spot, but it doesn't seem to matter.

Just this spot makes him scream like a girl. And it makes me feel like the best cock-sucker in the world.

I suck him in deeply again and he whimpers — fucking whimpers! "Oh fuck," he groans, thrusting lightly into my mouth. That's my cue to start preparing for the eruption of Mount Cullen. No matter what anyone says, jizz is not tasty, so I try to get him to aim straight down my throat instead of hitting my tongue.

"Bella, God," he yells as he comes.

I swallow quickly, still stroking the magic spot until I hear him panting, then look up at him with a smile. "Happy birthday, Edward."

* * *

"Would you like to dance?" the so-hot-it's-a-shame-he's-gay man asks.

"No, thanks," Edward replies with a small smile. Shrugging, the man walks away.

"Jesus Christ, that's the third one in 15 minutes," I grumble. It's not that I'm jealous, exactly. I know Edward isn't interested in these guys. It's just fucking annoying.

With Edward's 31st birthday falling on a Friday, we're at our favorite gay bar, Cock-a-doodle-do, to celebrate along with Angela and Ben, and three of Edward's more accepting gay friends — Seth, Brady and Collin.

"Tell me about it," moans Seth, a super sweet guy who works as a nurse at the hospital where Edward did his residency. It didn't surprise me at all when I learned that Seth was one of the friends who accepted my new place in Edward's life. His boyfriend dumped him last month and he's currently on the prowl for a new man. "What am I, chopped liver?" he asks rhetorically.

Brady and Collin laugh; they've been a committed couple for two years now and have no interest in the more "meat market" aspects of the bar scene. Brady's currently in art school, while Collin wants to be a singer. He's here tonight in his drag persona, Colleen, since he plans to go on stage later. I swear, he makes a prettier woman than I do.

"It's not like I'm doing anything to encourage it," Edward insists. And he's mostly right, he's just sitting at our table drinking a beer. But the way his lips wrap around the top of the bottle…

"Maybe you shouldn't have dressed so nicely tonight," I suggest. I mean, black plants, black tie and a dark, charcoal gray shirt? It should be illegal to look as good as he does tonight.

"I dressed for _you_, not anyone else," he pouts.

"These guys have a lot of nerve, coming on to you when you're sitting here with your arm around me," I complain.

"They probably just think you're my fag hag," he shrugs. "Anyway, now you know how I felt that night in Fort Lauderdale, when my old med school classmate was hitting on you while you were obviously there as my date." He shakes his head, taking a long drink of his beer.

"Maybe you just need to make it clearer that you're _with_ Edward," Angela suggests.

"Hmm, good point," I agree. "Scoot back." Confused, Edward scoots his chair back from the table a little bit and I move to sit on his lap. "There — now you're claimed as mine." I lean down and kiss him for good measure, putting my arm around his shoulder.

"You planning to stay there all night?" he asks, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes," I reply defiantly. He shakes his head, putting his — fuck, it's cold! — hand on my bare thigh underneath my skirt.

"Ok, you two," Brady cautions. "Not too much straight PDA in this place. Might gross some people out."

"You're not grossed out, are you?" I ask.

"Nah… it's all good. Be pretty hypocritical to have a problem with it given how much I hate the looks straight people give Collin and me sometimes."

"But it really bothers some gay people to see straight people kiss?" I ask, appalled. Sounds totally hypocritical to me.

"Yeah, some guys think anything related to straight sex is gross. Especially vaginas," he adds with a wink. I want to tell him what _I_ think is gross, but I wisely keep my mouth shut.

Ben is our designated driver for the night since the poor guy has to work tomorrow morning — you know, because banks are open until noon on Saturdays. While he nurses his Sprite, Seth stands up to get another round of drinks for the table. Even though they do have waiters here, he volunteered for the job so he could be more visible to any hot, single-and-looking guys… at least the ones who don't have their eye on _my_ boyfriend.

It's karaoke night at the bar — our favorite night to come here. Once the host for the evening announces that they'll be starting in 15 minutes, Collin jumps up to put his name on the list.

"Excuse me," a tall blond guy says, looking at Edward. Jesus Christ, I'm on his _lap_. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm good; thank you though," he replies, just as Seth reappears with several bottles of beer.

"All right, I've had enough," I announce, standing up. "Come on, Edward."

"What? It's only like nine o'clock. And we just got fresh drinks."

"I didn't say we're _leaving_," I clarify. "We're going up to the bar so you can do a tequila shot." From the look he gives me, he has no idea why I want him to do shots, but he does stand up, letting me take his hand and lead him toward the bar.

I order and pay for Edward's drink, since he is the birthday boy, after all. He starts to bring his wrist up to his mouth when I reach out, stopping him. "Uh-uh. Off me."

The little smirk that lights up his face almost makes me want to take him someplace more… private.

As always when I go to gay bars, I've got the girls on display so I'm not accused of being a drag queen. Edward leans over, licking the top curve of my left breast, then shakes a bit of salt on the wet spot. I place the lime in my mouth and nestle the glass of tequila in my cleavage. "Ready when you are," I tell him.

I hold still as he slowly licks the salt then lifts the glass with his teeth, before he has to cheat a bit and use his hand so he can drink it. He downs the nasty tequila in one swallow, then pulls the lime from my mouth, sucking on it.

And then I discreetly pick up the napkin to clean up the salt he missed before it dries and ends up in my bra… just the idea makes me shudder.

I lead Edward by the hand back to our table, sitting down in his lap before claiming his lips. Fuck Brady's warning about grossing people out — everyone in this club needs to know that he's _mine_ so they leave us the fuck alone.

Edward is a pretty good sport, alternating between making out with me and drinking his beer while we wait for Collin to be called to the stage. When it's his turn, we all applaud loudly, and Brady whistles for his boyfriend.

Dressed in a Marilyn Monroe wig, skin-tight red dress and three-inch heels on his already six-foot-two frame, Collin — or rather _Colleen_ — sings a pitch-perfect rendition of the classic Madonna song, _Borderline_, earning cheers from the crowd. He really is quite good, though I don't know about his chances for truly being "discovered" in Jacksonville. He plans to travel to New Orleans to audition for American Idol next week, though.

We all congratulate Collin when he returns to the table, then Ben stands, announcing he needs to use the bathroom. He glances around nervously and Seth laughs, standing up to join him. "I'll keep you safe," he adds with a wink.

I giggle until I see Angela's wink in my direction and realize it's just a ruse — they're going out to the parking lot to get Edward's gifts and birthday cake. Well, birthday _cupcakes_, anyway. Seth picked them up for me this afternoon from a local bakery. Brady and Collin both hid their gifts in Seth's car earlier, since it would look pretty odd for everyone at the table to get up at the same time.

Ben has Angela's and his gifts for Edward hidden in their trunk, but unfortunately, not mine. I was so pissed that the fancy watch I ordered for him didn't come back on time. Apparently, the place that did the engraving was backed up with requests from Father's Day last weekend.

"Ben was a pretty good sport about coming here," Edward observes.

"Yeah," Angela laughs. "Though I had to convince him that he'd look so nervous and uptight that surely no one here would mistake him for an available gay man." I smile — she's definitely right, there. The look Ben gets every time someone approaches our table certainly says "not interested."

When I see Seth and Ben coming toward us, I climb off of Edward's lap, sitting back in my own chair. He looks at me questioningly before spotting the two men.

"What have you guys done?" Edward asks, smiling.

"Happy birthday," I tell him, leaning in for a kiss. "We have gifts and then cupcakes."

Brady pulls out his iPhone, taking pictures as Edward opens all of his gifts. He especially loves the charcoal drawing that Brady did for him, to put up in his office at home. And I think he's really going to enjoy the starter kit from Ben so that he can brew his own beer.

"Hmmm… so I've opened something from everyone except my girlfriend," he notes, a smirk on his face. I'm sure he's expecting me to have some grand plan here, and I kind of hate to burst his bubble.

"Uh… your gift didn't quite arrive yet," I admit sheepishly. "It's supposed to be ready by Monday. Sorry."

Edward crooks his finger until I retake my seat on his lap. "It's ok, baby," he whispers. "You're all the gift I need." And then he kisses me until Collin's, "Awwww…" breaks the mood.

"Time for cake," Seth announces, opening the box to reveal the seven huge, fancy cupcakes inside.

"I call the red velvet one."

"We know, Bella," Angela laughs. I flip her the bird.

Edward chooses a chocolate cupcake with what looks to be caramel frosting, and we place a lone candle in the center. Brady pulls his lighter from his pocket, lighting the candle as Collin leads us in a round of singing _Happy Birthday_.

"Make a wish," I yell when we've finished. Edward blows out the candle and I set it aside, while the others all choose their own cupcakes from the box.

"Wait, we should have a toast," Seth suggests. "Be right back."

"I can't believe you guys did all this," Edward says, shaking his head.

"Why shouldn't we go all out to celebrate your birthday?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It's not a special birthday or anything — that was last year."

"But _you're_ special," I insist, wrapping my arms around him. He pouts and I peck his soft lips.

Seth soon returns with a bottle of sparkling wine and seven glasses. Ben tries to protest, but he hasn't had a drop of alcohol all night, so I'm sure one glass won't bother him. After Seth has poured the drinks, we all hold up our glasses, and I realize everyone is looking toward _me_ for a toast.

"Um," I clear my throat. "To Edward — the sweetest, most amazing man I've ever met." I know, that was lame, sorry — but it's true.

"I will be forever grateful to whoever matched you up with the hospital here in Jacksonville for your residency, because otherwise I never would've crossed paths with my soul mate. To an outsider, it probably seems like you've always had it all. But I know how you've struggled to find yourself, and find your place in the world. Not everyone accepts who you are, but I do — all of us here do. We all love you, Edward."

"To Edward," Seth finishes with a smile before we clink our glasses and drink up.

"Thanks, everyone," the birthday boy smiles. "For everything," he adds quietly.

I really wish we had forks, because these cupcakes are fucking _huge_! I can barely fit the whole thing in my mouth to take a bite — and I'm used to sticking something large in my mouth. Heh.

Suddenly, Edward giggles, looking at me. "What?"

"You have frosting on your nose," he chuckles. He swipes his finger over my nose, coming away with a dollop of cream cheese frosting, then sucks his finger sexily into his mouth, and has it gotten warm in here all of a sudden?

The next time Edward tries to take a bite of his own cupcake, I "accidentally" bump his arm, and a huge blob of frosting ends up on his very fine chin. He glares at me, obviously figuring out that I did it on purpose.

"Oops," I say innocently, cleaning off his chin with my index finger.

"Oh no," he says, stopping me as I bring my finger up to my mouth. "Mine." Holding my wrist, he guides my hand toward his own mouth, sucking on my finger and swirling his tongue all around before letting go with a pop.

I raise an eyebrow, staring at him. "I bet you gave great head, huh?" Well, fuck, I didn't mean to say _that_ out loud.

To my relief, Edward dissolves in a fit of giggles instead of getting mad or offended or anything like that. Of course, he may also be well on his way to drunk from the number of drinks his friends have been buying him all night.

When Ben needs to visit the men's room for real, Edward goes with him, and I take the opportunity to start cleaning up, putting his gifts back in the bags so we can get them home easily.

"Hey," Edward says, placing his hand on my shoulder when he comes back to our table. I quickly move back to his lap once he's seated. He smiles, shaking his head. "No one's hit on me in, oh, about a half hour now," he grins.

"Not taking any chances," I mutter.

"Every guy in this place can make his move, but I only have eyes for you, Bella," he assures me. I wrap my arms around him and he hugs me tightly to his chest, stroking his hand up and down my back.

"All right," the announcer begins, "We have another singer who just put his name in the hat. Let's give a big, warm welcome to Edward Cullen."

_What?!_

"You gotta let me up, baby," Edward says with a huge grin when I lift my head to stare at him. Still a little confused, I move to my own chair and he stands, making his way to the stage.

Edward has sung karaoke plenty of times, of course, but always with me or one of his other friends, and always when he's pretty toasted. What on earth is he doing, getting up on stage to sing _by himself_? He's not even that drunk.

I hear several whistles as Edward steps up onto the stage and have to fight the irrational urge to go up there and claim him. He sits on the stool in the middle of the stage then nods toward someone who starts the music.

I listen to the first few notes of the music track, recognizing it immediately from my preteen days as Savage Garden. God, I had such a crush on the band's lead singer… I was crushed when he later came out as gay. I almost laugh out loud when the realization hits me.

_I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish  
I'll be your fantasy  
I'll be your hope, I'll be your love  
Be everything that you need  
I'll love you more with every breath  
Truly, madly, deeply do_

I haven't heard the song in years, and as I listen to the words Edward is singing — beautifully, I might add — I realize it's a love song to me. By the end of the song, tears are streaming down my face. Angela smiles when she sees me, hugging me to her with one arm. "He's such a keeper," she whispers.

"I know," I whisper back.

Instead of coming back to us, Edward remains seated on the stool. "Um," he clears his throat, "That was dedicated to my girlfriend, Bella." I hear a few gasps and murmurs from the crowd.

"Yes, I said girlfriend," he continues. "I am a proud bisexual man, who's dated both men and women over the last 15 years. I promise that we're not just some mythical creature. But I'm currently completely, hopelessly, truly, madly, deeply in love with my girlfriend." He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Could you come up here, Bella?"

I sit there stunned, until Seth shoves me in the back. I'm gonna kill Edward for this — doesn't he know I hate to be the center of attention? Dazed, I stand up, walking to the stage and climbing the stairs. Edward stands as I reach him, brushing my tears away then placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Bella, you've been my best friend for four and a half years, and my girlfriend for the last nine months. I want you to be my wife from now until forever."

Before I can even process what is happening, he gets down on one knee, reaching in his pocket for something. "Please make me the happiest man alive and say that you'll marry me."

I bring my hand up to cover my mouth, completely stunned that he would do this now, in front of all of these people. But there's no question about my answer. "Yes," I whisper, crying again as the crowd starts applauding.

Edward's smile could light up the sky. He takes my left hand, sliding a ring onto my finger, then hugs me, burying his face in my stomach. I hear cheers and whistles coming from the direction of our table.

"Get up, you silly boy," I choke out. "I can't kiss you from down there."

Laughing, Edward stands up, kissing me gently. "Thank you," he whispers. "And thanks to everyone for indulging me," he adds a bit louder. Taking my hand, he leads me off the stage and back to our group.

Angela squeals, grabbing me and hugging me as soon as we reach the table. I hear Edward getting congratulations and slaps on the back from the others.

"Let me see your ring," she demands, sounding more excited than I am. As I hold my hand out to her, I realize I hadn't even looked at the ring myself. I'd marry Edward regardless of what my engagement ring looks like. Holy fuck — we're _engaged_!

"Oh my God, it's gorgeous," she gushes, holding my hand up to see the ring better in the dim lighting. For the first time, I have a chance to examine it, and it's truly stunning. There is a large round diamond in the center, with many smaller diamonds fanning out from the center in the white gold band. But what really stands out to me is the swirl of rose gold that surrounds the main diamond.

"Edward, I've never seen anything like this," I breathe.

He wraps his arms around me from behind, leaning his chin on my shoulder and kissing the side of my neck. "Do you like it?" he asks quietly.

"I love it," I assure him. "It's so… different… unique."

"Special," he whispers. "Just like you."

I turn in his arms, kissing him until I need to stop to breathe. "I can't believe you did this _here_, now. Somehow I expected you to be the traditional type and try to get my father's permission first," I chuckle.

"What makes you think I didn't?" At my confused look, he continues, "I asked your dad for permission to marry you when we went fishing together."

"But that was four months ago!"

"Bella, I've known that you're the one for me for a long time. I just waited to ask until I was sure you'd say yes," he grins. "And now," he says, nipping at my lips, "I really want to get you home and naked in my bed."

And that sounds like a fucking awesome idea.

I turn to Angela, but before I can even ask if she and Ben are ready to go, she gives me a knowing smile, telling Ben that we're leaving. I hug the guys goodbye, grab my purse and the bags of gifts, then the four of us make our way through the bar to the exit.

Reaching the parking lot, Ben opens the trunk for me to store the bags.

"Edward, do you want to sit up front so you have more room for your legs?" Angela asks.

"Not a chance," he grins, opening the passenger door and getting in next to me. I take one look at him and scoot over toward the middle, until I'm leaning up against his arm.

Edward grasps my face tenderly, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "I love you," he whispers, kissing me again before I can return the sentiment.

"Ok, you two, keep it PG back there," Angela warns. I pull away from Edward's lips, grinning at her before sticking my tongue out.

Edward wraps his arm around me, leaning over to kiss me, and as I get lost in his kisses, I turn my body toward him, lifting my left leg over his. My hand wanders all over his torso and I feel his sharp intake of breath as I stroke over his abs.

And then I get brave. I move my hand down a little lower, stroking over his dick through his pants as he groans softly. He's partially hard already, but hardens easily with a little attention. I sneak a peek toward the front of the car, but Angela and Ben are chatting quietly amongst themselves and totally ignoring us. Besides, I think the position of my leg is blocking them from seeing what I'm doing.

"Here we are," Ben announces as he pulls into our driveway. I quickly separate from Edward, trying not to laugh as he adjusts himself. I hop out of the car, grabbing the bags from the trunk, while he climbs out and waits for me.

"Thanks so much, you guys," I tell them, waving as Edward takes the bags from me.

I try my best to fish my keys out of the side of my purse while walking up the sidewalk to the front door, but I never was particularly good at multi-tasking. Once I've found them, I open the door, stepping inside.

"Race you to the bedroom," Edward says, waggling his eyebrows as he sets his bags of gifts down.

"No fair! I've got heels on." He just shrugs, leaving me in the dust as he runs through the house. Shaking my head, I set my purse down on the table in the entryway, then attempt to walk and take my shoes off at the same time.

By the time I reach the bedroom, Edward is nearly naked already. I move to the bed, tossing the throw pillows to the floor and pulling down the covers. "Now do you agree we have too many pillows?" he asks, startling me as he throws his arms around me from behind.

Ignoring him, I start taking my shirt off, while I feel Edward's hands working the zipper on the back of my skirt. He tosses me to the bed, still in my underwear, and climbs on top of me.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down to kiss me. I bring my hands up, rubbing up and down his warm back as his mouth and tongue do sinful things to me.

His arms slide around underneath me, unhooking my bra and tossing it aside. Slowly, he begins his descent, dropping kisses down my chin, my neck, my collarbone… finally reaching his favorite toys. He squeezes them in his hands lightly, then sucks one nipple into his mouth while I scratch my fingers through his soft hair.

Edward's hands lightly skim down my torso until he reaches my panties. He scoots down until he can pull them off, then comes back to where I'm aching for him. "Ready?" he asks with a wink.

"More than ready," I moan, crying out when his tongue finally touches me. I force myself to keep my eyes open, watching the incredibly erotic sight of my brand-new fiancé between my legs. He licks and sucks and teases, taking me to the brink and back again, before he slips first one and then a second finger inside me.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers has me falling over the edge in no time. He slows his movements, and then before I can even catch my breath, he's on top of me, inching his perfect cock inside.

Edward takes my hands in his, holding them up above my head as he fucks me slowly. The just-right amount of hair on his chest brushes against my sensitive nipples as he moves above me. I bring my legs up to wrap around his waist, trying to draw him in closer.

"I love you," he whispers, before brushing his lips against mine.

Suddenly, he's up and off of me, sitting down on the bed as he pulls me up and toward him. I eagerly slide back onto his hard cock, rocking myself above him as he holds me close, dropping soft kisses along my neck as we fall into a steady rhythm.

"So close," I mumble. He drops his hand between us, circling my clit, and we come together. As our movements slow, I lean my forehead against Edward's, trying to stop myself from crying again.

"I love you," I manage to choke out.

He pulls back, brushing my hair off my face as he smiles tenderly. "I love you too. Thank you for agreeing to marry me."

"Did you really doubt that I'd say yes? In the last year, you've turned my life upside down and inside out," I chuckle. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

* * *

**A/N:** Just in case it's not clear, Bella isn't insecure when the guys are all hitting on Edward. She's annoyed at the interruption, and that they have the nerve to hit on him when he's with her. She'd feel the same way if they were at a straight bar and women did that.

Bella's engagement ring, with a larger diamond… Edward is a doctor and all:

kay dot com /en/kaystore/diamond-engagement-ring-5-8-carat-tw-14k-two-tone-gold

This is the last regular chapter. Only an Epilogue to go!

Though I might be able to be talked in to an outtake/future take and/or an EPOV. Tell me what you'd like to see. Make your voice count! **Majority rules!** I reserve the right to not post an EPOV if I think it sucks though. ;)


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